Sookehverse: Oh No! Vampire Bill!
by Miral
Summary: It's like the South Park skit when Kenny dies over and over only when William T. Compton dies, no one's ever sorry. Series of one-shots that can be read in any order.
1. Lightning

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby belongs to Alan Ball. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

It was 3:00 am. Certainly not the typical time to be walking around outside, surveying your property. But Bill Compton was not your typical property-owner.

Bill was a vampire. As a vampire, he could only be alive at night.

It made Bill sad. He missed the daylight. The sunshine.

A farmer in his former life, Bill continued to prize nature and was an avid environmentalist.

For one thing, his household was a 100% recycling household. Although try as he might, he could not seem to drill this point home to his vampire child, Jessica.

_Well, she is young_, he thought. _Hopefully as she realizes her immortality, she will, like her maker, understand the importance of the earth. The soil. The oceans. The trees. The forests. The creatures. The insects_.

Bill stood with his hands resting on his waist. Looking down, he noted that he had gotten a smudge on his Dockers. He would have to rinse them immediately when he returned to the house.

His immortality often weighed heavily on Bill's mind: the longer he continued to live, the larger his carbon footprint grew.

_Eric's been alive five times as long as Ah have and always driving the endless supply of gas-guzzling Corvettes_. Bill frowned, shaking his head. _Ah bet he never gives it a second thought._

Finally Bill had come to the edge of his property. The Sweet Home Cemetery.

_Home_, Bill harrumphed. _Ah will never know the sweet peace and relief that comes with the cessation of life_-

Bill thumped his unbeating heart with a rolled fist. A blood tear cascaded down his cheek. Feeling it, he darted his tongue out to capture it.

_Ah...hm_, Bill realized, _it seems to be drizzling. It feels good_.

_Rain, cleanse me!_ he thought. _Cleanse me of the pain that torments my soul! Please, Beneficent Life-force, Almighty One, give me the peace that eludes my mournful existence!_

Yes, Bill was not in a sanguine mood. His ladylove, Sookie Stackhouse, seemed to be in a long-term relationship with Bill's boss and top rival, Eric Northman.

_Eric_, Bill groused as he kicked a rock. _Eric, with his size 13 flip-flops, and his ever-expanding carbon footprint._

The drizzle had gradually switched over to a light rain. A warm night in northern Louisiana, the rain brought with it a cool breeze.

_Ah, this rain feels good_, Bill thought.

In the far distance, Bill heard an echoing rumbling of thunder. Then he saw lightning fill the sky.

_Hm_, he thought. _That lightning bolt looked as though it hit awfully close to Sookie's house. I'll go peek in and make sure she's okay._

With that decision, Bill embarked on his slow glide hover to Sookie's house. Really, he could get there faster by running with his high-velocity vamp speed, but Bill was adamant about using one's God-given gifts.

_Hovering_, he reasoned, _may not be the quickest way to get to Sookie's but sometimes it is not about speed._

Suddenly, Eric's smirking face appeared in Bill's head.

_Eric. He always has to be the fastest. Always has to be the biggest. The baddest. The one with the most toys. _

Bill thought it absurd how Eric had forced Pam to go to Hairstyling School just so she could cut his hair every evening because he felt his long flowing Viking locks were 'dated'.

Bill could not abide by such vanity. Certainly, Bill knew his own looks could be significantly modernized-he himself could easily be as stylish as Eric- if he shaved his Civil War era sideburns.

But, he asked himself, what purpose would shaving his sideburns serve? Should he expend the energy to shave them only to have them again be upon his face the next evening when he awoke?

It was, he knew, pointless. The only purpose it served was that he wasted water and contributed shaving cream chemicals into the groundwater. Or he wasted energy if he opted to use an electric shaver.

No, Bill shook his head. He would leave such superficial pursuits to the Eric Northmans and the Pam Ravenscrofts of the vamp world.

He, William H. Compton, no matter how old he was, how many years he continued to walk the earth, would always remain his mother's son. He would remain Caroline's husband. He would continue to hold dear the morality and character of the man whose loins begat his children. The children that begat more children, until finally they were his descendants alive today. Such as the dead old lady Bellefleur.

_God rest her soul_, Bill thought.

_Ah, the rain is coming down harder_, Bill noted. _It is purifying my soul_.

Another clap of thunder sounded. This one was even closer.

_Hm, I wish sometimes, I could fly._ Bill thought. _This hovering can be tedious._

As they had threatened for the past hour, the skies came through on their promise and opened. A torrent of hard rain pounded on the countryside.

_Ah am getting all wet now_, he thought. _Although Ah do like hard rain. They have hard rain like this in Arkansas. _

Just then another roar of thunder sounded in the not-too-distant distance. Lightening lit up the night sky.

_Ah, here Ah am. Sookie's house. Ah hope she's not frightened of this thunder and lightening._

Bill hovered up to the front of her house. It had always pleased him that her bedroom was on the first floor. It was elevated slightly, but he could hover and see in the window. If her room were upstairs, he would not be able to peer inside.

_Because I don't fly like Eric_, Bill thought.

Often Bill would just stand by her window to check in on her safety. Once he had assured that she was peacefully asleep, he would continue to stand there until nearly dawn.

_Ah like knowing she's safe. After all, there's a lot of crazies in the world today._

On this night, the heavy rain pummeling the earth Bill so dearly loved coupled with claps of thunder made it impossible to hear Sookie's breathing. So Bill floated upward until he was level with Sookie's bedroom window.

Peeping inside, Bill stifled a snort of anger. His Sookie was naked. He looked at her exquisite beautiful curvaceous, tanned body.

Bill made a face.

She was riding Northman. He could see her features. Her face. It looked like she was in ecstasy.

Just then a loud crash of thunder sounded near Bill. Usually so calm and collected, unless Sookie was involved in which case he ran around screaming "Sookeh!," Bill's senses were momentarily startled.

An unexpected bolt of lightning struck the tree that sat on the front of Sookie's property.

With resounding crack a gigantic tree limb ruptured and began its freefall to the ground.

Six feet long the limb's branches extended out in all directions like the tentacles of a mythical sea creature.

Those tentacles were determined to get Bill.

And they did.

_Ah! _he cried out. _Ah've been staked by a tree branch._

Inside Sookie's bedroom, she let out a loud, piercing cry.

"ERIC!"

Then silence.

Recovering from her torrent of multiple orgasms, it took Sookie a while to recover. Finally her breathing had calmed down sufficiently sot that she could speak.

"Um, Eric?"

"Yes, lover?"

"Did you hear something before?"

"You mean lightning striking the tree and a large branch accidentally staking the idiot Compton to his final death?"

"Oh, good! So you heard it too! The gracious plenty always makes me see stars. Thought I was hallucinating sounds."

"You still calling it that?"

Sookie bit her lower lip and nodded.

Suddenly Eric growled and, lifting Sookie up, flipped her over.

"How about we try once more without the audience?"

**A/N: This is dedicated to all my ROTSS readers who have been begging me for months to kill, maim, and torture Bill. Sorry, it's been slow in coming. Soon! And now we have this, too! Twice as much Bill-Hatin'! YAY! **

**I still love this comment from ericsgirl1:**

"**please take everything wrong in the world out on Bill! :)"**

**Reviews welcome. Ideas for Bill's accidental demise very welcome. **

**Tweet me ideas too! I'm on Twitter as Miral_SVM. **

**NEXT UP: Oh No Vampire Bill! Bill has contractors in to do some electrical wiring per Affynity. Uh-oh. **


	2. Electrical Upgrades

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby belongs to Alan Ball. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

**A/N. This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure' and 'Tissues.' If you haven't read 'Tissues' ****now would be a good time****. There is a reference in here to the ''thing' Eric has going on with Alcide. You might want to read 'Niall and Bill' too. **

Bill Compton was sitting alone in his Civil War-era home. Bill, a vampire and 165 years old, had lived in the home when it was new. He had built it with his own two hands. Hands that, once human, were now vampire.

He sometimes marveled at the changes that had occurred in the world. In his long lifetime –even longer deathtime he corrected himself with a snicker. Yes, he had witnessed a great deal. So much in the world and in his existence had changed.

Bill hated it. Bill hated change.

Change was an enemy to Bill. Bill felt most of the ways in which society had changed were not for the better of humanity. When he thought of the youth and innocence of young girls during his lifetime and contrasted them with the lack of morals of young girls today-like Jessica, his vampire child-he was struck with a stark sense of sadness.

_Ah do not like all this change. It is not worthy change_, he thought.

Looking around his dark and gloomy mansion, Bill had a revelation.

_Perhaps it is mah dissatisfaction with the era in which Ah now exist that prompts my reluctance to update the interior of mah home._

_Though_, he thought, _Ah should update the bathroom. Ah have never enjoyed lounging in the tub as Ah used to since the evening Ah arrived home to find Eric Northman in mah clawfoot tub_.

Eric.

Bill made a face.

Eric was Bill's superior and the current boyfriend of the lovely Sookie Stackhouse, Bill's former human lover.

Bill hated that Sookie was with Eric. Even though he himself was now happy with Judith, he still wished Sookie free of Eric because, despite all evidence to the contrary, Bill knew Eric could not make Sookie happy.

All this thinking about changes and that, Bill thought, was one thing he dearly wished would change. He wanted Eric away from Sookie.

However, even were Sookie to break up with Eric, there was still Judith now standing between them. Bill, for all his faults, would not be anything other than a one-woman man.

_Especially_, he thought, _now that Lorena is dead_.

Bill spent a moment to reflect on his past ladyloves.

First there was Caroline. Then Lorena. Then Judith. Then Diane. Then Sookie. Then Portia. Then Selah. Now, he was with Judith again. That made seven women in 165 years.

_Ah am a lover of women and Ah prize them for their beauty and intelligence_.

Not so Eric Northman. Eric. Bill frowned. Eric, with his Viking good looks and ability to fly. His charged libido, sexual innuendos, and ever-present joie de vie.

_Ah bet Eric has had sex with seven people before Pam has had a chance to cut his hair for the evening._

The thought that 'his' Sookie was with the sexual predator-manimal Northman both sickened and saddened Bill.

"Ah, mah Sookeh," Bill mumbled softly to himself, "we are not to be, yet."

_Oh, well, Ah'd best get back to mah housework._

Bill put on his apron and grabbed a Swiffer duster extender. Although Bill realized he could get closer to the ceiling trim and woodwork if he hovered, he felt it was wrong to use his supernatural talents, like hovering, to tackle menial tasks.

There is a right time and place for everything and Bill felt hovering to collect the dustbunnies from the ceiling was wrong.

_Ah wonder where Jessica is this evening. Maybe out with Hoyt. That girl always manages to disappear when it is housekeeping time._

Engaged in his dusting, Bill continued to ponder the question of redecorating the interior of his home. Perhaps he did keep it as a shrine to an era long past. However, the one home improvement project he did finally invest in was an upgrading of the electrical wiring. Bill made his living as a computer programmer. For that reason he needed to assure himself that his computers and equipment did not sustain power surges.

Noticing lights flickering, Bill was puzzled.

_That is strange_. He thought._ Sookeh had contractors come in and upgrade the electrical wiring when Ah was in Peru._

A perplexed look on his face, Bill used his supe sense of smell to sniff his home.

Sniff. Sniff.

_Do Ah smell smoke?_

Back to his ruminations...Bill had asked Sookie to get a contractor in to take care of the electrical wiring. He had requested she take care of this during his most recent research trip, which had been three months earlier.

Sniff. Sniff.

_Do Ah smell burning?_

Bill had not yet repaid the cost of the electrical upgrading-a copy of the invoice still sat on his desk, along with a note from Sookie. He treasured the note. He knew it by heart.

Bill,

_I called Herveaux Contractors to do the upgrading. I guess I was feeling a little guilty about Eric's thing with Alcide. Anyway, I paid out of pocket, nearly $300 for the new switches and wires. I know how you like to take your time paying off debts when it comes to me, but I'd ask that you please not let it sit around for three months like last time. Also, as I mentioned in my email, Alcide said the $300 limit you set was not nearly enough to take care of what needed to be done. It didn't even skim the surface! A lot needs to be done! Alcide wanted me to emphasize that it was a potential fire hazard and you shouldn't put it off thinking you're saving money. You need to get it taken care of immediately! _

_Hope the Peru trip was fun._

_Sookie_

Sniff. Sniff.

Bill continued to muse the deeper meaning of Sookie's letter as he made his way up the stairs in search of the source of the troubling smell.

_"Care" is underlined twice. "Need" is underlined three times. Ah just know she's trying to secretly tell me how much she cares for and needs me_, Bill thought. _Ah just don't understand what she means by 'fire hazard.'_

Finally he stood on the second floor outside the door that led to the attic stairs.

Bill made a quirking motion with his head. A cute movement on a puppy, it just made Bill look constipated.

He listened. He sniffed. His eyes widened.

Bill's face went from a stoic mask to a wild-eyed look of fear.

He opened the door.

A fireball flung itself down upon him like furies bent on his destruction.

The flames quickly engulfed him -likely his acrylic sweater from Sears and his chemically-treated stain-resistant Dockers not only fed the combustion, but hastened it.

"_Ah, Oh No!"_ Bill screamed in horror. _"Ah am being burned alive! Engulfed in flames! The pain is ...ah...excruciating!_"

In the meantime, outside Eric Northman bounded up the side of Bill's house from the direction of the cemetery. Sookie, with her arms latched around Eric's neck, was getting a piggyback ride. Together they stood in the shadows of the flames. They watched as Compton's home was engulfed.

"See, lover? I told you I smelled fire."

"Oh," Sookie leaned down to whisper into Eric's ear. "Do you think it was because of the old electrical wiring?"

"Lover, I don't care what the cause was. I'm just pleased I no longer have to suffer that idiot Compton. I could live to be a million and still regret the blinks in time wasted in the company of that fool."

Sookie harrumphed.

"No, Eric. I'm serious. It might be my fault for not authorizing work beyond the limit he set. I just figured it would take him forever to pay me back. Remember how I arranged for the electricians to come?"

"Lover, of course, I remember. For the Were Herveaux to agree to come out on short notice, in the middle of the night, I was forced to cease my torment of him for two weeks." Eric turned his head to better meet her gaze. "I remember it well."

"Poor Eric," she smiled ruefully. "His girlfriend doesn't let him have any fun."

Despite her smile, it was obvious his lover feared herself responsible for the idiot's death. Seeing the beginnings of a frown appear on her face, Eric quickly decided that he would have none of that.

"Lover, did the Were Herveaux not say that the ridiculous amount Compton had authorized for the upgrades was inadequate to remedy the state of decay afflicting his sorry home?"

"Yeah," she answered. "Alcide said it was a negligible change. Like hanging a different color curtain. Bill's house needed a complete rewiring."

"Did you not inform him by letter that he needed to invest in upgrading his strange plywood hut to make it livable?"

"Yeah," Sookie let out a sigh. "I guess you're right."

"Yes, I am. It was Compton's decision, lover. The last time I saw the dolt he babbled on about some Gregorian death chant CD-of-the-month club he had joined."

Sookie sighed. She knew Eric was right.

In the distance they heard the sirens of fire engines approaching.

"Come lover. I do not believe you ever made amends for forcing me to cancel the two Were visits."

Sookie's eyebrow shot up. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Really." he grinned.

"All righty, then," Sookie smiled back. "Let's go."

**A/N: Thanks to Affynity for the idea for tonight's chapter.**

**Thanks to hdgcat for keeping me honest. The inspiration behind this story was for Accidental Bill deaths, not Bill murders. I know most of you just want him dead and the how is immaterial, but for me to keep faithful to my...ah...vision of my 1,001 chapter Groundhog Day-like saga of never-ending Bill deaths, they must be accidental. This originally read a bit too much like it was intentional on Sookie's part to murder Bill. Hopefully, it has been remedied. **

**Reviews welcome. **

**Tweet me ideas too! I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. **

**NEXT UP: Oh No Vampire Bill! Bill has to go to the Piggly Wiggly to drop off the recycling. Will he get there in one piece? Uh-oh. **


	3. Dockers Delivery

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby belongs to Alan Ball. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure' and 'Tissues.' As I cross-reference a bit, you might want to read both when you have a chance. Don't worry. They're funny. Bill was in full Angst Whore mode in 'N&B.' Niall wanted to throttle him. Eric's high-handedness really comes out (LOL!) in 'Tissues.' **

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Bill Compton had just made his seventh trip carrying recyclables to his car. Since the recent installation of a deluxe recycling room in his former kitchen, the recyclables had been piling up.

Why would Bill get rid of his kitchen? Well, as a 165-year old vampire, Bill had no need for a kitchen. So out came the appliances and cabinets and in went storage bins.

Lots of storage bins.

A bit of a compulsive organizer, Bill had indulged in a number of IKEA purchases including large interlocking bins. Bill now had several bins for paper (separate ones for glossy, computer, and newspaper), plastics (separated by number), metals (not silver, of course), cardboards, and glass (separated by color). Overall, Bill was very pleased with the tidy organization of his recycling room.

That is, he _was_ pleased until he realized IKEA was a Swedish company. Then he was angry.

_Swedish_, he snorted. _Like Eric_.

_Eric_ was Eric Northman, the Vampire Sheriff of Louisiana's Area 5. Technically, Bill reported to him. Bill was not exactly Eric's employee. Bill was Eric's underling.

_Ah can't stand the word underling_, Bill thought.

And Bill couldn't stand Eric Northman.

_Eric_, Bill sneered silently to himself. _With his keen wit and lighthearted ways. Chiseled features and GQ good looks_.

_Ah hate him_, thought Bill.

Just thinking of Eric made Bill very upset. It was because of Sookie.

_Ah, Sookeh_, Bill thought as he added up his True Blood bottle deposits. _She was mah one reason to have a kitchen_.

Sookie, a human, had been Bill's girlfriend for a few months a couple of years earlier. It was during their time together that Bill's kitchen saw its most frequent use. Sookie would occasionally prepare meals for herself and eat in Bill's kitchen.

At the time, Bill found himself often disgusted by Sookie's habit of eating. They would often fight about it.

Sookie didn't understand how Bill could drink blood, live in a musty home, and sleep in dirt, yet be bothered by a little oregano?

Bill, however, was relentless in encouraging Sookie to brush her teeth and use Scope. Sometimes he would hide a stick of Dentyne in his briefs so she would find it eventually and get the hint.

Sookie would argue with him, saying that her dentist told her she was brushing away her enamel.

And so the issue continued to fester and prompted more fights. Sookie would act all frustrated and annoyed. Bill, however, regarded it as foreplay. For Bill believed, deep down, that Sookie secretly enjoyed fighting with him.

Now, however, they were through. In fact, Bill was incredulous when he realized it had been nearly two years since their last coupling.

_Ah, Sookeh._

Despite his recently renewed sexual relationship with his vampire-sister Judith, Bill still missed Sookie.

Sookie was so alive. Beautiful. Bronzed. Buxom.

But now she was Eric's.

_Ah, well. Ah must continue to be the strong man that Ah am._

Bill stood stoically with his arms crossed over his favorite 1985 LeTigre polo shirt.

Pulling himself out of his mental wanderings, Bill went up the porch steps to lock his front door.

_One can never be too careful these days. There are many crazies lurking about._

Bill got in his car, started the engine, and sat quietly as he waited for the engine to warm up.

_Ah wonder if the Piggly Wiggly True Blood deposit machine is fixed. If not, Ah will have to go to the 24-hour Wal-Mart in Monroe. Ah know it is important to recycle, Ah just wish it were a little more convenient, _Bill lamented_. Ah don't have all the time in the world._

Once the engine had stopped racing, Bill was ready to go. As he pulled out onto Hummingbird Lane, Bill made a right. Though it was out of his way, he wanted to make sure Sookie was home. He figured he'd just pull into her driveway and confirm that her car was there.

Turning into Sookie's driveway, he saw that Sookie's car was there.

There was a second car there as well.

Bill made a face.

It was a brand new gas-guzzling red Corvette. It could only belong to one person. There was only one person in the area that drove such an environment-destroying ostentatious monstrosity.

_Eric_, Bill groaned. _Ah cannot tell Sookeh what to do. She is a grown woman and if she wants to throw her life away on Eric, then Ah can't stop her._

Bill did a K-turn on Sookie's property, and pulled out on the road to head for the Piggly Wiggly.

_Hm, it's been a while since Ah have listened to mah Gregorian Death Chants CD._

Bill popped in his CD and hit play.

The sound of wailing monks quickly filled the Cadillac's interior. Bill nodded his head in time to the music as only he could do.

_Ah love this music._

After a few minutes Bill approached the traffic light. Bon Temps, being rural, did not have many signalized intersections. So this was one of the few. Bill could still recall getting caught at this light the night Sookie was taken by the killer fairies. He was only happy he was able to save her from the killer fairies before it was too late.

Bill saved Sookie by calling Eric and saying, "Eric, you must call Niall." Bill figured Eric would not have thought to call Niall—Sookie's great-grandfather and the last fairy prince —had Bill not told him to do so.

Of course, what Bill didn't know was that Eric and Niall had known each other for hundreds of years. The two, fearing their poor comprehension of American slang would be their undoing, had taken an ESL class together during the 1970s. Eric, concerned that his true nature had been revealed when someone asked him if he were ready to "get down," had responded by killing that person. Niall, similarly, had killed a man for shouting "Fairy!" as he had walked past wearing a flowing robe, his long hair upswept in a ponytail.

Recalling Niall, Bill wondered briefly how the fine old gentleman was. He thought they had gotten along quite well during their search for Sookie.

As he sat waiting at the light, Bill leaned forward.

_Hm, it really is a rather long light._

Bill looked to the left and to the right. He did not see any vehicles approaching.

He wondered how terrible it would be if he were to run the light? Bill feared losing his driver's license. He found it hard to get around Bon Temps by hovering. He was actually much, much slower than a Segway. Bill's top speed was only about 5.0 mph. The Segway iSeries topped off at 12.5 mph.

While Bill constantly fretted about losing his driver's license, he couldn't understand how Sookie's brother still had his. Bill believed Jason spent half his time drunk. The other half— like this past Sunday evening—the man just seemed borderline retarded.

Bill, frustrated that he was still stuck at the light, finally decided he would just go through the intersection. It wasn't as though he were blowing through it at high speed. He would continue to cautiously check for other vehicles as he inched his way forward.

Thus resolved, Bill moved his foot from the brake to the accelerator.

Inch. Look.

Inch. Look.

Inch. Look.

Just at that moment a tractor-trailer turned onto the road.

Bill happened to be looking in the other direction when the truck appeared.

Then something happened.

Bill felt the music. He shut his eyes in ecstasy. Moaning, Bill was caught up in the reverberating sounds that both pleased and pained him.

_Ah love the vibrations as they make my member tingle._

Hubris and joy of Gregorian Death chants taking over during those final moments of his undead existence, Bill's eyes were shut in peaceful reverie as his soul sang and his penis tingled.

The tractor-trailer, slamming into Bill's black Cadillac, proceeded to rip the top off of Bill's vehicle in seconds. The undercarriage of the tractor-trailer, a blanket of steel and iron, seemed ready to caress the former farmer's neckline.

Until the moment that the undercarriage decided that Bill needed to die and then it proceeded to slice Bill's head clean off.

By the time Kenya and Kevin arrived at the scene, all that remained of Bill was a dirty pair of Dockers and a LeTigre shirt.

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Back at Sookie's house, Sookie and Eric sat on the sofa in the living room watching local cable news.

"Lover, I am telling you they interviewed me."

"Uh-huh. We've been watching this for hours. This local news is boring. Let's put a movie on."

"Wait a moment. Isn't that Compton's sad vehicle?"

Squinting her eyes, Sookie looked at the TV screen. She hit the mute button so the voice of the newscaster suddenly filled the room.

"_And in other news, the horrific jack-knifing of a tractor-trailer filled with Dockers destined for the Monroe mall resulted in Dockers strewn everywhere at this intersection in Bon Temps. No one was injured in the accident."_

"_Except_," the other newscaster injected some of that special brand of humor only taught at newscaster school, "_all those people not knowing what to wear, desperately clamoring for their Dockers."_

Newscaster laughter filled the air.

_"Yes, well, let's hope they've got it covered_— _by now."_

The two newscasters laughed uproariously at their banter. Not done, there was one last piece of the puzzle.

_"An obviously abandoned old model Cadillac at the scene was left damaged."_

"Eric!" Sookie turned wide-eyed to her boyfriend. "Do you think Bill might have accidentally got his head chopped off?"

Eric, in the meantime, was pumping his fist in the air triumphantly.

"Yes," he replied simply.

Considering the matter, Sookie frowned.

"I am so glad I didn't pay for that jerk's electrical wiring. He would've died still owing me money!"

"Relax, lover."

Sookie threw a bemused-yet-challenging look at Eric. She didn't say a word.

"Oh, yeah? My wife wishes to be difficult?" Suddenly Eric's long form was stretched on top of Sookie. "You know I have ways of making you relax."

"I know," she grinned.

**A/N: **

**Ha. Did you spot the lemons?**

**CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE:**

**Affynity deserves a lot of credit. More than just for feeding me ideas. Maybe "creative consultant" is a good term. For one thing, she came up with the subtitle and the 1,001 figure and it didn't even occur to me to say "uh, that's pretty ambitious." So I continue to write, relying on her faith that together we can do this. We can kill Bill. 1,001 times.**

**I found out yesterday my sister-8 years my junior-doesn't know Mr. Bill! I posted a link to real Mr. Bill. I was surprised to learn Mr. Bill's creator is actually from NOLA. How fitting is that?**

**PIMPAGE (LOOK AWAY):**

**I am going to do something I've never done before: pimping one story in another story. This is because I've never had two multi-chapter stories going on simultaneously. ROTSS. I can tell a lot of folks don't make it past Chapter 1. My advice: Skip Chapter 1. JB's all whiny and emo. I get it. You can even skip #2. You can follow along from Chapter 3 easily enough or start at Chapter 12 (this is where all the Stackhouses are home). Bill is in rare form in ROTSS. As a human, he can annoy the shit out of people during the day too. Amelia, Hoyt, and Hunter are plotting 'Teacup' Stackhouses. Pam is snarky. Eric is a little emasculated at first but he finds his balls. Sookie's a barracuda. And Russell Edgington is my revenge on AB. Okay, plug over.**

**Reviews welcome. Tweet me ideas too! I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. **

**NEXT UP: Oh No Vampire Bill! Eric installs a 10-foot high white picket fence at Sookie's house. Uh-oh. **


	4. The Fence

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby belongs to Alan Ball. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure' and 'Tissues.' As I cross-reference a bit, you should read both when you have a chance. Bill was in full Angst Whore mode in 'N&B.' Niall wanted to throttle him. Eric's high-handedness really comes out (LOL!) in 'Tissues.' **

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It was almost July 1. The date was special. Not because it began the second half of the year, but because it was Sookie Stackhouse's birthday.

Sookie's friend, neighbor, and former beau—William H. Compton— was covering the distance between her home and his own. Per his usual custom, Bill was walking by way of the Sweet Home Cemetery that separated their properties.

Bill paused briefly during his constitutional to lay a flower at a headstone. The grave he paid homage to was, strangely enough, his own.

Bill, 165 years young, was a vampire. Since that was so, his gravesite held no body. Bill's body remained his own. The Civil War vet, in his darker moments of self-loathing, would wonder that, perhaps, it was his soul that was buried at the cemetery.

_Ah have walked this planet for so long and it doesn't get any easier!_ Bill bemoaned.

Bill was going over to Sookie's to deliver her birthday present. He had purchased her a gift during his most recent search for polo shirts at JC Penney.

Bill did so regret that they no longer made Izod alligator shirts. Sentimental to a fault, Bill had, post-Hurricane Katrina, come to regard them as _his_ "Louisiana 'gator" shirts. Imbuing in them a heartfelt sense of "we shall overcome," Bill had worn them exclusively for over a year. As a result, they were threadbare. Until he heard back from the costume restorer he had found on Craig's List, he would have to wear his LeTigre collection.

Bill forced his attention from the sad state of his beloved polos to his beloved former girlfriend, Sookie.

Bill had bought Sookie a lavender dress. Having found it on the sales rack, Bill was very pleased with his smart purchase. With her deep summer tan, he knew the dress would look lovely on her.

Lovely Sookie. Bill could not help the bittersweet musings that tugged at his dead heart whenever thoughts of his former lover arose.

He missed Sookie. His Sookie. Although much time had passed since they last had sexual intercourse, Bill still could recall the distinct sensations of being inside her.

_Ah loved her_, he thought. _Ah loved laying with her._

But, he reminded himself that those days were long past.

Yes, long past. Sookie was with Eric Northman now. Eric, the Sheriff of Louisiana Area Five, was Bill's superior. Bill thought Eric was a jerk.

_He thinks he knows more than me because he's been ahlive longer._

Despite the reality that Eric _did_ indeed know a great deal more than Bill just by virtue of having been alive longer, Bill maintained an uppity stance with Eric.

Eric, on the other hand, regarded Bill as one would a mournful anxiety-ridden hypochondriac: with a combination of pity and amusement.

_Ah hate that smahrtypants_, Bill thought.

Bill could still recall one fight they'd had, many months earlier.

Bill had given Eric his most threatening 'Big Bad Bill' look.

Eric had just looked down at him with a smirk, utterly amused, and asked if he were trying to pick a fight.

Bill, physically smaller than Eric, was also younger than Eric by more than 800 vampire years. Bill knew he could not best Eric in a fight. However, that did not stop the younger vamp from repeatedly antagonizing the former Viking.

Despite Bill's seeming lack of common sense, Eric continued to walk away, leaving the knave intact. It was largely due to Eric's inherently good nature that Bill's undead existence had continued for as long as it had.

Bill was approaching the edge of the Sweet Home Cemetery. Finally, hitting the clearing that led to Sookie's house Bill looked up in shock.

Although it was dark—it was nearing midnight—he could see quite clearly there was something new surrounding the house.

While in the past Sookie's home had been encircled only by a few majestic willow trees and several bushes, now there stood a 10-foot, wooden white picket fence.

Bill's jaw fell open.

He walked towards the fence. Seeing no opening in the area along the side of the house, he turned on his heel and made his way to the driveway entrance.

The white picket fence continued all the way around. A mechanism at the driveway apparently opened a portion of the fence to allow entry. A button with a plaque —indicating 'Press for Entry'—was placed above an intercom.

Fearing it to be an Eric trick, Bill looked around. After a slight hesitation, Bill pressed the button. He immediately heard a voice.

"Yes, I am here."

Bill made a face. He knew that voice.

Eric!

Eric had installed a security fence around Sookie's house and had the buzzer for entry programmed to his cell phone!

"Eric, does Sookeh know what you've done?"

Pause. Silence.

"Who is this?"

"Eric, you know who it is! It's Bill Compton!" Bill let out a snort. "Does Sookeh know that you've—."

CLICK.

Bill looked around. He had not foreseen this issue, so he had not brought his cell phone with him.

_If Ah had mah cell phone, Ah could call Sookeh_, Bill thought. _She wouldn't let Eric thwart my visit if she knew._

Bill pressed the button again.

"Yes, I am here."

"Eric," He said heatedly, "do not hang—."

CLICK.

_Dammit! Ah hate that ass!_ Bill thought.

Bill looked around. The fence was 10 feet high. Bill was about 5'8". He started to circle around the property looking for an opening in the fence. He was not surprised when he saw there was none. He did note a manufacturer label: ACME.

Bill, continuing his survey of the lands, realized that several of the trees had even been removed from the property.

_How can Ah climb over when Eric has not left me anything to climb over with?_

Bill placed the birthday gift on the ground. He stood with his hands resting on his waist. He let out a frustrated—yet pointless-—sigh. This was one of those times Bill wished he could fly. But, alas, he could not.

He could, however, hover.

Bill, standing in front of the fence, channeled all his energy into hovering. He levitated upward about 2 feet.

_Hm, that's not enough height_, he thought.

Again, Bill focused all his attention on levitating.

This time he arose by two and a half feet.

He came down. Closing his eyes, he went into downtime for a few moments. A little while later he tried again. This time he cleared nearly three feet.

_Ah wish Ah had found a 24-hour yoga studio. Ah know Ah could go much higher if Ah was centered._

Bill figured if he concentrated he could levitate to a point high enough where he then could throw a leg over the fence. Once on top of the fence, he could jump down to the other side.

Standing in front of the fence, Bill concentrated.

Bill's concentrating face looked sadly like a constipated face.

Bill struggled to reach three feet.

Up and down he went, grumbling about Eric Northman the entire time.

Finally, Bill was nearly at four feet.

_Good, good_, he cried.

Heartened by his progress, Bill decided to try pressing the buzzer one last time. Walking around to the driveway entrance, he hit the button.

"Yes, I am here."

"Eric, do not hang up on me," Bill spat out. "Does Sookeh know what you've done?"

"Bill Compton? Aren't you supposed to be at Fangtasia this evening?"

"You knew it was Sookeh's birthday when you assigned me this night."

"Did you find someone to replace you?"

"That's not mah responsibility."

"Wrong answer, Bill."

"Are you going to let me see Sookeh?"

"Bill, her name is Sookie. Say it with me—Sookie. I don't know where you get your pronunciation skills. I could surmise it as a country-folk thing, yet all of Sookie's other neighbors seem to have no problem saying her name."

"Ah know how to say Sookeh's name."

Pause.

"Yes, well. Let's leave that for the moment. For my lover's birthday, I have made special arrangements that do not involve extraneous individuals such as yourself."

"Ah am Sookeh's friend," Bill pointed out. "Ah have known her longer than you."

Silence.

"Bill, you have known Sookie perhaps a week longer."

"Ah dated her first."

Silence.

"Bill, Sookie and I were first together more than a year and a half ago. Now we are looking to our six-month anniversary in a couple of weeks. I believe the length and duration of our marital union quite outlasts your befuddled dating attempt during which you betrayed her, drained her, and cheated on her." Eric paused. "Am I missing anything?"

Pause.

"Ah don't understand why you have to be so mean."

"Bill, I am not being mean as you say. It is just that your recollection of past events often seems to diverge from reality."

Bill snorted.

"Are you going to let me speak to Sookeh?"

"No. Goodbye." Eric paused. "Do _not_ try to get over the fence. It will _not_ end well for you."

CLICK.

Bill was irate now.

_Eric_, Bill thought. _Eric, with his loyal child, Pam, who cuts his hair each evening. _ _Ah can't even get Jessica to rinse her True Blood bottles_

Bill, incensed, stormed back to the side of the house.

Channeling his energy, Bill once more concentrated on his hovering. Getting an idea, Bill sought to tap into the strength and universal oneness that his Gregorian Death Chants always inspired within him.

Bill began to sing. As he continued his chants, his voice took on a special quality. His reverberations deepened to a unique place few were familiar with. He levitated. Higher and higher.

It worked!

As Bill's guttural moaning became louder, he levitated higher. Joyous, Bill lifted his arms to the heavens.

Happy, he laughed.

Once he was close enough to the top of the fence, Bill maneuvered into a prone facedown position. He threw a leg over the fence. He then scrambled to position his upper body onto the top of the fence.

_Ah…uh oh…_

Bill quickly realized his mistake.

When Eric had told Bill not to climb over the fence, that it would not "end well" for him, he hadn't been kidding.

_Ah've been staked!_ Bill thought.

The top of the fence, which was actually much thicker than could be discerned from the ground, had hollowed out center. Emerging from this center was an alternating sequence of silver and wooden stakes.

Bill had spent much of the past few years disregarding what Eric Northman told him. This was the one time he regretted doing so.

_Ah can't believe that ass, with his strong jaw line_…was Bill's final thought before the power of his immortality flowed out from his body leaving only a black oozing slime.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"Hey, you ready?" Sookie came out of Eric's bedroom to find him sitting on the sofa in the living room.

"Lover," his eyes were smoldering as he took her in, "you are beautiful."

She was. As she always was. Eric had purchased the ensemble—lovely red dress and provocative pumps—as part of Sookie's birthday present. Eric, of course, knew it was more a gift to him.

"Thank you," Sookie felt a flush rise to her cheeks. Eric promised her a surprise for her birthday. So far he had picked her up at work and, bringing her over to his place, he had given her an amazing birthday "massage" followed up by an incredible birthday "shower." Taking in his designer grey slacks and dress shirt, she realized a desire to reciprocate. "You look pretty good, too."

Eric, raising an eyebrow, asked "pretty good?"

"Uh, yeah," Sookie giggled. "So are we ready to go?"

"Yes, lover. One phone call to Pam and we shall be—as you say—_good to go_."

Sookie laughed. Eric's idiom usage never failed to amuse her. She had recently found out that the ESL class he had taken during the 1970s had been with her great-grandfather! She was dying to hear more about it, but Eric, so far, was being tight-lipped.

Suddenly Eric was on the phone with Pam.

"It is I. Please check on what I had asked. I suspect it is done. Regardless, call the Were Herveaux. He is expecting the call to undo what was done. Everything is to be restored to exactly as it was before. Clear my calendar for a month of my weekly trips to the Were. It's his due. The witch is to remove the spell on the trees."

Eric nodded and shut his phone. Turning to Sookie, he saw that she was looking at him funny.

"Yes, lover?" He smirked. "Like what you see?"

"Uh, yeah," she smiled, "but that's not why I'm staring."

He nodded for her to continue.

"Your mentioning trees. It reminded me. I was thinking of maybe putting a garden in part of my yard but the one half-dead willow is in the way. Maybe I'll get estimates on removing it."

"It is a nuisance to you? You would be better off without it?"

Sookie nodded.

"Lover," Eric grabbed her and gently pulled her into his arms, "consider it gone. Happy Birthday."

Sookie looked at the clock on the wall.

"Speaking of nuisances, nearly one o'clock and not a peep from you-know-who," she laughed.

"Sh," Eric quieted her with a kiss.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: LOL. Eric's crafty, isn't he? Hm, I know I'm a little in a grey area here. Accidental? Not accidental? You know what I say? Who the fuck cares? As long as Bill's dead! It was, ultimately, his own stupid fault. Dipshit.**

**Credit where credit is due****: **

**nycsnowbird pointed out Izod was a more appropriate selection for Bill's 1980s polo shirt obsession and boy was she right! Do you believe Bill? Stupid emo jackass. He was probably ready to spend $1000s on restoring the shirts. You **_**know**_** he owes Sookie money for something.**

**JanofArc suggested ACME for the fence manufacturer. LOL. Brilliant. **

**Related, I have to thank Loony Tunes cartoons. Did it remind anyone else of Wiley E. Coyote and the Roadrunner? Hm, might have to add Monty Python too. **

**Feedback****:**

**Reviews and suggestions for the kill always welcome! I've got a good imagination, but 1,001? WTF was I thinking? **

**Tweet me ideas too! Until I get kicked off, I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. **

**NEXT UP****: Oh No Vampire Bill! Bill and Sam go hunting in Arkansas. Uh-oh. **


	5. Hard Hard Rain

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby and Sam's disgusting family belongs to Alan Ball. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure' and 'Tissues.' As I cross-reference a bit, you should read both when you have a chance. They're funny and short. LOL. Like Bill. **

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Wearing a pair of Dockers and one of his few remaining priceless Izod alligator polo shirts, William H. Compton wandered out of the rustic cabin.

Bill looked around at the darkened forest. As it was the middle of the night—nearing 3:00 am—not much activity could be detected. Not even by a 165-year old vampire, which is exactly what Bill was.

While one might think it impossible to surprise someone of Bill's advanced age, this simply wasn't true. Bill _never_ could've anticipated his week ending the way it had. Bill was on a hunting weekend in Arkansas with Sam Merlotte.

It had come about quite organically. Judith, Bill's lovely Vampire-sister and romantic consort, had been—Bill thought the word "nagging" was too harsh—"strongly advising" him that he ought to make more of an effort to get out and spend time with friends.

_Ah never should have agreed to watch "Ah Love You Man,"_ Bill thought. _Damn you Paul Rudd with your perfect comedic timing and unthreatening boy-next-door good looks._

In any case, while Bill liked Sam all right, he was feeling a little concerned about some of the vibes he detected from Sam.

_Ah do not need a bromance_, Bill thought. _Since Ah let Sam drink some of my blood to stay awake while driving, Ah do not like the way he's been looking at me._

It truly was odd. Who'd ever heard of a human—or shifter, in Sam's case—getting romantic —or lusty—feelings for a vamp after drinking their blood? It made absolutely no sense. It flew in the face of everything Bill knew about thousands of years of human-vamp interactions. It defied reason.

_Ah don't understand why the v addicts would ever drain their vamps_, Bill thought._ It's so illogical._

Finally, Bill decided to chalk it up to his overactive imagination. There's no way he could be inspiring lusty feelings in Sam. He certainly wasn't feeling lusty feelings for Sam.

Although, Sam, Bill could not deny, was a wiry, good-looking man. Taut muscles were easily discernible under his tight t-shirt. Bill could also not deny Sam wore his jeans and cowboy boots well. Quite well, indeed.

_Ah think he's a finer looking dog than Lassie_, Bill thought.

Well, regardless, despite Bill's discomfort, he could not deny he'd had fun with Sam during the drive up from Louisiana. Apparently Sam, like Bill, did not like Eric Northman. The two had bonded over their mutually held opinion that Eric was not the right man for Sookie Stackhouse. Sookie was Bill's former girlfriend and Sam's best barmaid.

"Ah know she's all recovered from the killer fairies attacking her," Bill had said to Sam during the drive north. "Ah know Eric took care of her, but Ah still think he's a big jerk."

"Well, Bill," Sam nodded as he kept his eyes glued to the miles of dark highway, "I see Sookie every day and I can't deny that in the past six months she seems more her old self—chipper, happy—but also stronger, more confident, and just plain ole' comfortable in her skin. I know she and Eric have been together roughly the same time. But frankly, I just plain don't like him." Sam threw Bill a quick sideward glance. "I don't trust 'im."

Bill had felt a surge of happiness bubble up inside him at Sam's words. It was an unfamiliar sensation—Bill's typical emotional range varied from tepid to indignant —often accompanied by self-righteousness. This warm happiness was something new. Bill smiled. The unfamiliar expression pulled his facial muscles in foreign directions. He looked at Sam in wonder, but had to look away. He needed to get it together.

_Ah am so excited, Ah am feeling a warm tingling in mah blood_, Bill noted with some surprise.

He glanced down to his lap and took note of 'little Bill Compton.'

_Ah like Sam. Maybe this hunting trip will be fun_, he thought.

Looking out the car window Bill noticed it was starting to rain.

Suddenly he heard Sam speaking.

"It's raining."

"Yes," Bill agreed, turning to stare at Sam. "Ah hear the rain in Arkansas is hard. Very hard."

Sam, eyes wide, briefly looked over to Bill. Silently he nodded his head.

"Yeah," he gulped. "Very hard, indeed."

Bringing himself back to the present, Bill was ambulating. That is, he was going for a walk. He was in a very contemplative mood.

_Ah have been alone for so long,_ Bill thought. _Maybe Ah do need friends._

_Ah wonder if Sam likes me_.

At first, when Judith had brought up the idea of Bill needing more friends, Bill had been quite resistant. Judith suggested Eric might be a good candidate. They had argued over it.

"Bill, you wander around the house," Judith started. "You never leave your computer. Your only regular outings are to drop off the recycling or to look for your polo shirts. I think you need something more."

Bill had been momentarily speechless.

"Ah go out," Bill quickly got defensive. "It just so happens that bad things happen when Ah leave the house, so Ah don't do it much."

"Bill, please," she looked tenderly at him. "What's the point of eternal life if it's really _really_ boring?"

So, with that plaintive plea from Judith, Bill relented and started to scope around for friends.

Being a traditional man, Bill's mind first went to kin. The Bellefleurs. Since Bill had a rather strange history with Portia, Bill decided to call Andy.

"Andy Bellefleur."

"Andy, my great-great-great grandson," Bill intoned.

"Uh, Vampire Bill? You need something? Did somebody try to kill Sookie Stackhouse?"

Startled, Bill did a pretend guffaw.

"No, no. Why?" he was suddenly serious. "Have you heard something?"

"No, Compton" Andy sighed. "Usually only time I hear from you is when someone's trying to kill Sookie."

"Well, Andy," Bill put on his coaxing friendly voice, "I'm actually reaching out because I'd like for us to be friends."

Andy let out a grunt.

"What's in it for me? You want your money back?"

"No, no," Bill couldn't help but let a little haughty indignation reflect in his tone. "Of course not! I would just like for you and I to be friends is all. We are," he paused to add gravitas to the word, "family, after all."

Andy harrumphed.

"No, I don't think so."

"What?"

"No, I got enough friends. My wife. My colleagues. My sister. Jason Stackhouse."

"You're friends with Jason?"

"Yeah."

"But you won't be friends with me?"

"That's right."

"Why not?"

"I don't like you."

"But you like Jason?"

"Hell, yeah. I like Jason!"

"But why?"

"He's fun."

"I'm not?"

"You're kidding, right Compton?"

Silence.

_For fucks sake, _Andy sighed. _I hurt his feelings_. _An emo vamp. Who'd have thought?_

"Listen, I just don't feel we have enough in common. My wife's pregnant. I can't be out all hours. I'm sorry. It just wouldn't work out. Isn't there another vamp you could be friends with? The tall blonde one who's dating Sookie?"

So Andy Bellefleuer didn't work out. Bill could not—would not—approach Eric Northman to be his friend. Sometimes he thought possibly Pam and he might be able to get along, but it always came back to Eric.

_Ah can't stand that...that jokey character._

Running out of options, Bill turned to the one he knew would have to help him. Jessica.

Bill sat down with his vampire child, Jessica and her human boyfriend, Hoyt Fortenberry, to brainstorm other men Bill might be able to befriend.

"Bill, why don't you just glamour someone into being your friend."

"Jessicah, that is not an appropriate use of vampire power"

"Well, Bill, I don't know how you're going to find friends otherwise. I'm only here because you commanded me. I can't stand you."

Then Hoyt interjected.

"Uh, Vampire Bill, I'm okay being here. Jess is still a little upset from the time you left her to fight the weres by herself."

Bill thought this overture from Hoyt was very nice, indeed.

"So Hoyt, would you like to play a game of Wii golf? I just got the Tiger Woods PGA Tour 11."

"Oh, no, Vampire Bill," Hoyt replied quickly without a second thought. "I meant that I'm okay, right now, with you. But I don't want to spend any more time with you than I already do." At this Jessica burst out laughing.

"You said it, Hoyt! Amen to that!" Jessica continued to laugh.

Realizing how bad that sounded, Hoyt backtracked.

"Nothing personal, Vampire Bill, but since Jess is a vamp, I'd rather spend those precious hours with her."

Hoyt threw a sweet gaze at Jessica and she rewarded him with a smile.

"Uh, tell you what, Vampire Bill. I know Sam's looking for someone to go hunting with him this weekend. He asked me, but I can't. Maybe you could go. I guess, uh, maybe you'd hunt at different times, and, uh, for different stuff, but maybe you could, play cards or watch movies together. Sam was talkin' about some war series—_Generation Kill_—he wanted to watch."

So Bill, the next time he was at Merlottes, called on Sam and mentioned the hunting thing. Sam looked at him kind of funny at first, but then finally agreed.

That was Wednesday. It was now Saturday morning at 4:00 am. Together they had driven in Sam's jeep up to Arkansas to a cabin owned by Sam. So far Bill and Sam had not had much of an opportunity to spend any quality time together but Bill was hoping that would change shortly.

Actually, thus far, their hunting trip was not going as well as Bill had hoped. It wasn't due to either of them. Sam and he, Bill was pleased to realize, were getting along quite well. However, when they had arrived at the cabin, they—especially Sam—were shocked to discover they were not the only ones up there for the weekend.

Rather than a rustic log cabin hideaway, it was more like a rustic log cabin 'getaway.' And getaway is just what Bill wanted to do immediately upon walking through the door.

Instead of an empty cabin, they had discovered that it was quite occupied. Unbeknownst to Sam, his father, Joe Lee, mother, Melinda, and brother Tommy had moved in.

Sam had been shocked. Truthfully, the sight of a flabby 60-year old man in tighty-whiteys had been a shock to Bill, as well.

The Merlottes got into a pretty loud shouting match, which quickly devolved into a fracas. Honestly, though, it warmed Bill's unbeating heart to hear a real bonafide family fight. While he was rooting for Sam, he did appreciate Melinda's verve.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam was incredulous.

"Why don't you ever call?" Melinda was oblivious.

"Call you? You Tweet me every five minutes!"

"It's not the same thing."

"No, maybe not. But it's close. What're you doing here?"

"We got evicted."

"How'd you get evicted? You own the house!"

"Well, maybe we needed to lay low for a while."

"Well, hell! That's just great."

Bill had watched, a slight thrill washing over him as Sam ran his fingers through his shaggy sandy-colored hair. Sam was angry.

"Can you answer me something, ma? Why doesn't he ever wear pants?"

"He's a grown man. He's done his time. He doesn't like to be confined."

"BY PANTS?"

"Sam, until you've walked a mile in another's shoes—"

"Ma, those briefs don't look like they'll last another minute, much less a mile!"

Deciding to give the Merlottes some privacy to sort through their issues, Bill went outside to commune with nature.

Bill stood at the edge of the forest. He started to Ohm. He was so pleased he had finally found a 24-hour yoga studio. He felt much more centered since he'd found the school. While he was happy to have Judith back in his life, between she and Jessica, it was quite different having two females in the house. He had found himself feeling rather stressed and the yoga chants relaxed him.

Bill closed his eyes, and crouched down low, so that he could be closer to mother earth.

Humming, Bill's senses were completely turned both inward and outward at the life-giving universal pulse of being.

So focused on his communing with nature, Bill was oblivious to the elements around him. As his Ohms grew louder, Bill was certain he could feel his soul expand.

Feeling himself rising higher and higher, Bill could detect both a stillness as well as a rustling in the forest. So focused on his oneness, his Ohms, Bill lost track of his surroundings.

Ohm.

Ohm.

Ohm.

Suddenly his senses came alive. He opened his eyes.

_Ah…oh no_, he thought.

There in front of Bill was a giant black bear.

The bear, creeping along on all fours suddenly stood high, roaring in anger.

So shocked to see a black bear bearing down upon him, Bill surely would have peed himself had there been any urine still in his system.

It was huge for a black bear. It obviously weighed upward of 700—possibly even more than 800 pounds. The bear was tall, too. More than 6 and a half feet in height.

_At least he is taller than Eric Northman_, Bill thought.

Speaking of tall, Bill stood tall. Well, Bill stood to his full 5'8" stature. Finally remembering the deadly predator he himself to be, he allowed his fangs to drop.

As the bear continued to growl and roar at him, Bill hissed at the bear.

Before it could even occur to him to possible run away using his vamp warp speed, the bear's claws were out. The bear waved his paw at Bill.

Once at the face.

"Ah," Bill was startled.

Twice at the face.

"Oh, yeah," Bill was incensed now. "Bring it on, bear."

Just then the door to the cabin opened. Sam. Bill turned to look at his friend.

Sam and Bill's eyes locked.

"Aw, shit." Sam looked inexplicably sad. "Bill, what'd you get yourself into?"

Distracted as he was by Sam's sudden appearance at the door, Bill's eyes were looking away from the bear for one second.

It was one second too many.

Third time was the charm. The bear, rising on its hind legs once more, swiped with fury at Bill's head. The bear's large claws slit deeply into Bill's neck. Profound wounds, the bear's claws actually got caught in the vamp's neck. The bear pulled and yanked to free his claws from Bill's neck.

Bill kept sputtering up blood. Finally the bear swiped one last time. This time his claws yanked to right, tearing the dead vamp flesh that had thus far been left untouched.

Sam's face was crestfallen as he watched Bill's head wobble and roll. Finally, it became apparent that the thin layers of flesh were not enough to keep it tethered to Bill's gutted neck.

Bill's increasingly more dead body fell to the ground. The thin layer of skin that continued to attach his head by a thread to his shoulders proved no match for the weight of his considerable head. The thin film of flesh tearing, Bill's head popped from his body and rolled in the direction of the bear.

The bear, satisfied with his kill, loped over to the head. Nudging it with his snout, he quickly realized there was something wrong with this head, and it would not make a good meal. The bear left.

Bill's body, bit by bit, disintegrated. Although he wasn't there to see it, Bill would have been pleased at how well nature was taking care of his "carbon footprint."

In the meantime, Sam stood watching from his cabin door. He walked out towards Bill's rapidly disappearing body.

"Bill," Sam's voice caught. "I'm so sorry, man."

"Sam," Bill's mother called out from inside the cabin. "Your vamp friend's dead? Does his wallet disintegrate up like that too? You know, your dad, Tommy, and I could use the extra cash. If it'd make you happy, we could get your dad a pair of pants."

Melinda turned to her husband.

"Joe Lee," she addressed him. "You'd wear flowy pants, right? Just you don't want them to rein in the boys too much? We could get you some yoga pants. Sam, we're gonna get your father some yoga pants. Sam? Sam?"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

As per usual, with Sam away for a weekend, his number one employee and go-to, Sookie, was left in charge of Merlotte's. Nearly closing time, Sookie's boyfriend, Eric Northman, and his blond Vampire child and 'second,' Pam Ravenscroft, were sitting at a booth drinking True Bloods. Eric was there to accompany Sookie to her home where he'd be spending the night. Pam was there just to be Pam.

Sookie walked over to check in on the Viking vamp and child.

"Hey. You two good on True Bloods?"

"Yes, Sookie," Pam smiled playfully, her voice laden with innuendo. "Very good."

Eric, however, peering closely at Sookie, saw that something was amiss. She was unhappy.

"Lover," Eric said. "Something is wrong. Tell me." He faced her expectantly. Pam, too, turned to watch Sookie.

"Uh, I just got off the phone with Sam," she sighed. "Something happened up in Arkansas."

"Is he not well?"

"He's just upset. His family's giving him problems." Sookie lowered her voice. "I think he was kind of starting to like someone but now that person's dead."

"That is unfortunate." Yes, it was unfortunate. Sookie had a persistent following of irritants who constantly sought her favor. Eric did not regard them as threats as much as he did nuisances. The shifter was not as bad as the odious Were Herveaux, but still it would be preferable if the dog found his own '+ 1' and left _his_ _lover_ alone.

"Did Compton not go with the shifter this weekend?"

"Yeah." Sookie nodded. "That's who's dead."

Pam raised an eyebrow. Eric, keeping his face immobile, merely nodded.

"You are…?"

"Well, I feel bad for Sam. He texted me during the drive up that he was all excited, that Bill was so nice. They were getting along so well."

"And…?"

"Well, then Bill got all emo and went and meditated in the middle of the forest and he got himself beheaded by a bear."

Suddenly Pam started to laugh.

"Pam," Sookie hissed at her. "It is _not_ funny. I agreed to go to Sam's brother's wedding and I've been hoping he'd find someone else to be his '+1'" Eric let out a snort of laughter, "and now I'm gonna be stuck going."

"I'm sorry, lover." Eric's eyes were dancing. "I'll try to make it up to you."

Sookie giggled.

"Yeah, you will, will you?"

"Ready to close up?"

"Two minutes, baby."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: **

**What can I say? I am one sick puppy. I just started laughing over the unintended implication that 'Tommy' was the brother getting married. Ick. I debated offing both him and the dad, but decided I didn't want to detract from the Bill death. Let's hear it for Andy, Jess, Hoyt, and Pam! YAY! Everybody Hates Bill!**

**Credit Where Credit Is Due: Idea kernel came from Stephen Colbert's Threatdown! Scene inspiration from: "A River Runs Through It" and Grizzly Adams. Thanks to Fruit of the Loom for holding it together. Thanks to "I Love You Man" for being HILARIOUS. Geez, almost forgot "Brokeback Mountain." **

**Thanks to Mac3774 for "nature's way of taking care of Bill's carbon footprint." LOL. Thanks to Affynity for moral support, technical assistance, and humoring me.**

**Reviews welcome. Tweet me ideas too! I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. I was a little doubtful at first, but I'm starting to think we can get to 1,001! **

**NEXT UP: Oh No Vampire Bill! What? Is Bill dead? (Yeah, I haven't decided what's coming next because…we're going to update the All-Human fic! YAY! The Return of **_**Return of the Stackhouse Six**_**!)**


	6. Vamp Olympics

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby belongs to Alan Ball. Russell Edgington and Franklin Mott belong to both. "Greg" Ferguson belongs to himself but I do Tweet him now! As always, I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure' and 'Tissues,' and since I go nuts with references, consider yourself warned. **

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Bill Compton was busy. Although the 165-year old vampire usually refrained from using his vampire powers for menial tasks, he had granted himself a reprieve of this self-imposed edict.

_Ah am overwhelmed_, Bill thought. _Ah should've known Eric would not keep his word about helping me._

Eric. Eric Northman was Bill's superior. In the vamp hierarchy, that is.

_Ah hate him,_ Bill thought. _Ah bet he's flying overhead, watching me rush around and laughing about how he's not helping me_.

Help was something Bill could use. In a little more than two hours, his home was going to be the site of a fundraiser. Bill, a staunch environmentalist, was looking to raise money for the **Gulf Relief Foundation**. By promising the Viking a favor at some time in the future, he had gotten Eric to agree to participate.

_Ah hope he doesn't try any funny business. Ah don't trust him._

Using his vamp warp speed, Bill had been able to set up the arena style seating, stage, and field markings.

_Ah still need to set up the basketball court_, he thought.

Bill didn't want to include basketball as he figured Eric would just fly the ball up to the net like he had the last time they had played. Eric, however, had insisted upon it as one of his conditions for agreeing to participate.

_Ah hope that arrogant jerk is on good behavior. You'd think being a thousand years old would instill some sense of responsibility, of being a custodian of the earth. But all Eric cares about is sex, his cahr, and his hair._

In addition to being Bill's immediate overseer in the vampire hierarchy, Eric was also Sookie Stackhouse's boyfriend. A role Bill himself had at one time played.

_Ah miss Sookeh_, Bill thought. _Ah am sure all that sex Eric makes her have can't be good for her._

Bill glanced around his property. An event sign had been nailed onto the front of the house:

**2010 Vamp-Olympics**

Bill nodded. It looked good.

While it had been Bill's idea to have a fundraiser, Hoyt, Bill's vampire child Jessica's boyfriend, had been the one to suggest a "Vamp-Olympics."

Playing a game of Scrabble, the three had been chatting about the recent oil spill in the Gulf and Bill mentioned his desire to organize a fundraiser.

"Vampire Bill, that's a terrific idea," Hoyt turned to his girlfriend. "Jess, isn't that a terrific idea?"

Jessica, pouting, just looked sullenly between Hoyt and Bill.

"No," she replied belligerently. "It's not a terrific idea. It's a stupid idea!" She looked at Bill. "And you're a big jerk! Jerk! Jerk! Jerk!"

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Jessica turned away from Bill.

"Jessicah, that is not a proper tone to take with me. Ah am your maker."

"You're a big maker-jerk!"

Bill turned to Hoyt.

"Do you see how willful and petulant she is with me?"

Incensed, Jessica could not allow that comment to pass without responding.

"You commanded me to stay home and play Scrabble with you, you big jerk!" Jessica let out a breath. "Hoyt and I were gonna do something romantic, but you just up and ruined it! Like you do everything!"

Bill was sorry that he and Jessica still had difficulties in their relationship. As equally loathsome as he found both Eric and Pam, he couldn't help but recognize how close they were.

Pam had spent months studying at Barbizon to ensure Eric's hair would always be perfectly coiffed. As much as he detested the _King and Princess of Sarcastic Utterances_, Bill couldn't help but feel jealous when he considered how much Jessica claimed to hate him.

_Ah know she must be exaggerating_, he reassured himself._ It's just not possible to hate someone as much as she claims to hate me._

Bill settled back into his preparations. People would be starting to arrive shortly and he still had to set up the lighting. He had rented stadium lights so that the yard would be aglow like a nighttime football game.

_It is a good thing Sookeh paid for me to have the electricity upgraded_, he thought. _My electricity never goes out and my lights don't dim anymore. What a difference $3,000 makes. Sookeh is so sweet_.

An hour later Bill's front lawn was lit up like a holiday display. Hoyt and Jessica were directing cars where to park. Bill, his iPod connected to the large outdoor speakers he had rented, was setting it up to play. Ever a theatrical vampire, Bill had made a special compilation of music including the theme to "Chariots of Fire" and "Rocky." He was pleased and felt confident that music would arouse the appropriate level enthusiasm in the crowd.

A crowd which now numbered about 40.

_Hm_, thought Bill. _I thought for sure advertising at the schools, churches, and Piggly Wiggly would draw a larger crowd than this_.

"Compton," a voice called out. Bill looked in the direction of the voice.

His jaw dropped. It was Eric. Eric dressed in pink and aqua Lycra tights that left nothing to the imagination! Bill couldn't help but stare.

_Ah don't believe that's real. He must've put a piece of garden hose in there. Ah've read some vamps do that_.

"Eric," Bill nodded. Looking away from Eric's seemingly huge 'package', Bill noticed Sookie and Pam flanking him. They were both wearing cheerleading outfits. Bill felt a pang in his loins. He nodded at Sookie.

"Sookeh."

"Hi Bill," Sookie nodded pleasantly, her arm still wrapped around Eric's waist.

Looking away from Sookie, Bill gathered his thoughts. Pam and Sookie were each sporting a polo shirt that said, "Team Eric." That was against their agreement.

"Eric, we ahgreed it was going to be a friendly competition. We weren't going to spend money on fancy extras. Ah did not have costumes made up. You having costumes made up went against our ahgreement!"

Eric, who had been perusing the yard, finally turned to face Bill.

"I'm sorry, Billy," Eric smiled. Bill could hear Pam laughing. "Did you say something?"

Bill frowned.

_Ah hate him. Why does he have to be my boss? He ruins everything!_

"Ah said we ahgreed not to spend money on costumes."

"I didn't spend money on costumes."

"What about what you're wearing?"

"This old thing?" Eric shrugged.

"What about the 'Team Eric' shirts? Those just laying around the closet, too?"

"As a matter of fact," Eric paused. "Yes. Pam is an avid reader of Dear Abby. She is very dedicated to the power of positive affirmation."

"You're telling me she had 'Team Eric' shirts made up to wear just to give you positive affirmation?"

Eric glanced at the crowd. Returning his gaze to Bill, he chuckled.

"No, not exactly," Eric smirked. "She did not have them made up. She made them herself. I asked her to go to fashion school a few decades ago. She's quite good. She has retained her membership in the seamstresses union."

Bill heard Pam laugh.

Bill made a face.

_Ah can't stand him._

A while later, the Vamp Olympics were kicking into gear. Bill had attempted to recreate the aura and gravitas of the Olympics. Of course, for obvious reasons, there would be no silver medals. Nor were flaming torches permitted. Looking around, Bill thought,

_The only thing flaming here tonight_, Bill thought, _is Eric's iridescent Day-Glo tights._

Bill turned his attention to the MC. He had almost requested Sam Merlotte do the honors, but then he'd encountered this rather jubilant Scotsman at the 24-hour Wal-Mart one evening. The man was obviously an alcoholic and down on his luck, but Bill felt he was quite a humorous storyteller. He thought the man—his name was Greg Ferguson—would help promote a sense of kinship. The man tended to periodically cease whatever he was saying, and just announce rather randomly that "it's a great day in America, everybody."

Time for the introductions. Bill got into position. Hoyt had instructions to not allow Ferguson to drink until most of the night's competitions were done, but Bill wasn't sure how drunk Ferguson had been to begin with.

Ferguson walked up to the microphone.

"Doodoodoodoo, doodoodoodoo," he sounded like an old-time radio announcer. "It's a great day for America, everybody." He paused expectantly but no one did anything.

Finally Sam started clapping.

"C'mon, everybody!" Sam called out. "Sooner we do this, sooner we can leave. I told you everybody gets a drink on the house. C'mon."

So Sam had been instrumental in getting people out to the fundraiser. Bill had been feeling a little awkward around Sam lately. He wasn't sure why. He felt like there was something that had been left unsaid between them but that didn't make any sense.

Bringing his attention back to the present, Bill saw that Ferguson had removed himself from the confines of his pants and was urinating over the side of the stage, onto Bill's lawn!

"Stop that! Stop that!" Bill shouted.

A few moments later, the extravaganza had picked up where it had left off.

Greg Ferguson introduced himself.

"Hellooooooo, Bon Temps! I am your host for the evening, Greg Ferguson," he called out into the microphone. He smiled—no, rather—he leered at the audience.

As the theme to 'Rocky' began, Ferguson started to introduce Team Bill.

"First, up, I'd like to introduce someone special. He's the reason why we're all gathered here this evening. He is," Ferguson paused, choking up, "a vamp after my own heart. He's cheap. He's got control issues. And, he'd just as soon tear your head off as fuck you!"

Bill's mouth dropped open in shock. The crowd took note and for the first time, the more evolved of the bunch wondered just what they had gotten themselves into. Bill didn't understand where Ferguson's introduction came from.

_Ah had told Jessicah to write our introductions _—_Jessicah!_

Bill turned to glance over at his child who was laughing so hard blood tears were streaming down her face.

"The captain of Team Bill, Bill Compton!"

Again Sam started to clap and looked around at the crowd.

"C'mon, everybody!" Sam called out to his regulars. "I'll throw in wings if you're all good for the next hour!"

Amidst lackluster cheers, Bill went forward to the podium.

"Thank you. Thank you. I'd like to say a few words," Bill paused to take a piece of paper out of the pocket of his sport chinos. "Ah was born on this land 165 years ago-"

A collective groan was transmitted across the crowd.

"and in that time," Bill continued "Ah've seen many changes-"

Suddenly Ferguson stepped in.

"Let's hear it for the Captain, everybody!"

A polite—yet grateful—clapping could be heard. Bill, thunderstruck, stared at the MC.

"Ah did not finish mah speech, sir," Bill glared at the Scotsman.

"Yes, well," Ferguson replied. "You may be immortal, but we're not. No one wants to hear your wah wah wah sob story 165 years in the making."

Bill could only stare at the man.

_Does no one fear vampire anymore_? He thought.

Ferguson turned his attention back to his MC duties.

"Joining Bill are his sweet child, Jessica."

Jessica stepped up on the stage and waved.

"His beautiful sister-lover, Judith."

Judith walked on-stage and nodded a smile.

"Last, but certainly not least, his friend, and the King of Mississippi, Russell Edgington. "

Russell bounded up to the stage shouting, "This is FAAANTAAASTIC!" He then proceeded to laugh maniacally.

Ferguson turned to stare at him. Then he turned to stare out at the audience, raising his eyebrows and shrugging.

"Yes, well." Ferguson shouted over the sounds of Russell's insane cackling. "I'm certainly not telling the crazy vampire to shut up!" The crowd tittered nervously. "So let's hear it for Team Bill, everybody!"

At this the audience did really clap. Truthfully, most folks were pretty unnerved by Russell, although he did finally settle down.

"Their opponents tonight are from another part of town. From Shreveport, here is Team Eric."

Eric flew up to the stage—literally—his long tight muscled body prone in flight position capturing the imagination of everyone. The MC was no exception, as he tried to lick the exposed part of Eric's back, the area not covered by his wife beater t-shirt.

Eric preened for the audience and posed flexing his muscles.

Ferguson was enthralled.

"Joining Captain Eric are his superhot child, Pam Ravenscroft!"

Pam strut onstage like a supermodel on a runway, finally stopping to strike a pouty model pose with her hands at her waist.

"His crazy pal who's visiting for the weekend, Franklin Mott!"

"H'allo blokes!" Franklin flung himself up the stage. "Russell's CRAZY, isn't he? HA HA HA! We could be twins! HA HA HA!"

Ferguson, facing the audience, rolled his eyes.

"Finally, this is Eric's fly bitch Lafayette Reynolds. Lafayette, you may have noticed, is not even a vampire! That's how confident Team Eric is!"

Lafayette's vampwalk rivaled Pam's, who glared at him. He coldly looked back. Finally, he gave her the hand.

"Oh, please," Pam hissed. "That do-rag look is sooooo over."

"Yo' just jealous, bitch, 'cause you got no groove."

Eric leaned in to speak to the two of them.

"Let's just see how this plays out. There'll be time for taunting later."

Lafayette raised a brow, while Pam rolled her eyes. Eric just shook his head.

Ferguson just observed all this silently, jerking his head and making faces at the audience.

Finally, with all the members of both Team Bill and Team Eric now on-stage, they stood facing the crowd.

Bill stood sedately. Jessica and Judith stood smiling and waving. Russell had resumed his laughing.

Eric, by this time, had started to do a little on-stage strut, turning to show his 'bottom' off to the audience. Pam flirtatiously undid the top button of her polo and Lafayette preened. Franklin, meanwhile, had sunk the floor of the stage and was rocking himself back and forth, in the fetal position.

Ferguson just stared at the vamps on-stage and Lafayette. He turned back to the audience, nodding his head with a coy smile on his face.

"Doodoodoodoo, doodoodoodoo," he sounded like an old-time radio announcer. "It's a great day for America, everybody." He paused expectantly but no one did anything.

This time someone from the audience—Bill thought it was Arlene Fowler but he couldn't be sure with all the field lights—called out—

"Can they get the hell on with it? Some of us do have an expiration date, you know!"

"Yes, of course," Ferguson nodded. "Our first competition is Ultimate Frisbee! I invite our players to go down to the field."

The players left the stage and went down to the field. Walking on Bill's lawn, Pam realized her heels were sinking into his soft grass. Muttering "even his lawn is pussy" she kicked off her pumps.

As they were the visitors, Team Eric would be starting the game.

Bill hoped that the Frisbee was adequate. He had tried to instruct Jessica on buying a Frisbee—he felt that, given their superhuman strength, a regular plastic Frisbee would not do. But, alas, he and his child had, as usual, gotten into an argument. She had stormed out. When he later asked about the Frisbee purchase, she'd insisted she "had it covered."

Bill looked up. Eric, looking like the Gay Sherriff of Nottingham, held the Frisbee in his hands and was looking at it strangely. He kept making practice motions like he was going to throw it but then he wouldn't. After watching Eric do this tease play several times, Bill's patience was spent.

"Eric, what is wrong? Why won't you throw the Frisbee?"

"Do you realize how heavy this is, Bill?"

"What?"

"It's heavy."

"Eric, what's the matter? Your hands tired? They been tinkling the ivories?" Bill snickered at his own joke. He was sure Eric didn't play the piano. Bill frowned when he realized just what it was Eric did do with his fingers.

Eric was similarly irritated. He did not appreciate it when Underling Bill got uppity.

"Fine, Bill. You sure you know how to catch this?"

"Yes, Eric," Bill huffed. "You think only Vikings know how to throw things?"

Eric glanced over at Sookie who had a set of pompons and was jumping up and down. She blew him a kiss. Remembering the shifter's words, quicker they get this done, the sooner they leave, Eric turned once more to face Bill. This time when he motioned to throw the Frisbee, he released it from his grip.

Suddenly the Frisbee—a metal round discus—was tearing a missile path through the air. The projectile quickly approaching the Bill, Eric saw with a start that Compton, despite his impatience for the start of play, was not ready to catch the 'Frisbee.'

"Compton!" Eric called out.

Bill finally turned to where the heavy round discus was fastly bearing down on him.

In the second before it greeted him, there was still a chance for Bill to use vamp warp speed and remove himself from its furious path. Or he could have hovered upward, allowing the murderous Frisbee to just fly past. But Bill did neither of these things.

Seeing the discus honing in on him, Bill started to scream.

But Bill never had a chance to finish his screams.

The Frisbee, or as it would soon be known throughout Bon Temps, the Portable Vampire Bill Beheading Device, slammed straight into Bill's neck. As Eric had thrown it as he would a Frisbee, he had thrown it hard. Very hard indeed.

The discus sliced away at the soft Civil War era vamp flesh like a Ginsu knife cutting through tender roasted pork. Like the old magician's yanking-the-tablecloth trick, Bill's head, once detached from his body, landed squarely back on his shoulders. It spent a precarious split second suspended atop his headless body, before both body and head toppled to the ground.

Everyone just stared at Bill's remains in stunned silence. As the vampire magic left his body, Bill transformed into a puddle of goo.

Eric was quite surprised. Although he had felt like relieving the angst-ridden, self-loathing vampire of the source of his angst many times over the years, their past quibbles had actually settled. Accidentally beheading Bill with a discus plied like a Frisbee was the last thing Eric expected he would do this evening.

In the lit-up lawn by the cemetery, the 40 or so audience members sat in stunned silence.

No one said a word until Franklin Mott spoke. "That," he muttered, "had to hurt."

With that, everyone seemed to shake out of the death pall that Bill seemed to cast, even before his second death.

Bill's great- great-great grandson, Andy Bellefleur stood up and clapped.

"That was great. The missus' will be sorry she missed it." Andy turned around to face the other townspeople. "Let's hear it for Vampire Bill. Lord knows, he never impressed me much. Until now. That was pretty cool. I'm gonna donate more money to his cause."

Gradually the audience—basically Merlottes' Saturday night crowd—stood like Andy and clapped in appreciation of Bill's awesome 'trick.'

"Best thing about this," Andy looked to Eric and then Ferguson. "I'm thinking the Vamp-Olympics is done, now. Right?"

Eric shrugged, while Ferguson smiled nervously nodding his head.

"Let's go, people," Andy slipped into cop mode. "Nothing more to see here. Seriously. Just a little black muck is all. Don't let me catch any of you taking back your donations. That wouldn't be right."

As Andy shepherded the crowd towards their cars, the vamps congregated, along with Sookie, Lafayette, Hoyt, Sam, and Greg Ferguson, in front of Bill's now-filthy Polo shirt and chinos where they still lay on the ground.

"Jessica, you have my condolences," Eric started, meeting the girl's eyes.

"Uh, thanks, Eric but he was a shitty maker. I kinda think I'll be better off without him." Hoyt and Sookie nodded in agreement.

Eric nodded his head. "Fair enough." He turned to Judith. "Judith, you as well."

"Yeah, our thing had pretty much run its course," Judith replied. "I was just planning on sticking around until after the fundraiser."

"Very well." Eric then turned to the last one who might be upset by Bill's death.

"My lover?" He peered at Sookie. "You are...?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she sighed. "I just realized he'd never repaid me what he owed me for fronting all that money on the electrical upgrades while he was in Peru." She bit her lip slightly.

"Sookie," Jess said. "I'll take care of that straightaway. Soon as I figure out where Mr. Skinflint hid his money." Hoyt gave Jessica a reassuring arm squeeze. She flashed a smile his way.

"Thanks, Jess." Sookie smiled then.

"Sure thing," Jessica nodded, still smiling. Easing into her role of hostess, she asked, "Well, you all want to all come in? We still have plenty of food and True Bloods?"

"Sho', Jess," Lafayetted was the first to reply. "Watching Vampire Bill muck up made me hungry. We brought barbeque chicken, didn't we, Sam?"

"Yup," Sam replied. "Jumbalaya too."

"Oh, that's lovely," Ferguson looked back towards the stage. "I'm very hungry. The angsty vamp kept promising to feed me, but then he'd look like he was passing a stone when I'd ask for food. Should we get the window-licker vamp off the stage?"

Looking back towards the stage, the group saw that Russell had climbed back onto the stage. He was once more on his knees laughing insanely.

"Authoritah, authoritah," he cried. "I am the authoritah!"

"Leave him," Eric instructed. Nodding in agreement, the small crowd started to make their way inside. Suddenly Sookie stopped.

"Lover?"

"Uh, actually I should grab a copy of the receipt to give Jess." She looked at Eric, an unspoken question issued with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. I shall accompany you, lover."

Separating from the others, Eric and Sookie walked together, side by side. Once they were no longer visible from Bill's house, they paused. Eric gathered Sookie up into his arms, his hands firmly planted on her derriere. Her arms hugging Eric's neck, Sookie wrapped her legs around his waist.

Eric leaned down for a kiss. Sookie complied.

Coming up a bit later, to allow his lover a chance to breathe, Eric asked,

"Do I get my 'Team Eric' cheer a little early?"

"Yes."

"What did I do to bring this on?"

"Lets just say," Sookie gave him a special smile. "All things considered, you're a really good boyfriend."

Eric leaned in to resume his kiss.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: First, tomorrow is Eric's…uh…I mean Alexander Skarsgard's birthday! YAY! He's catching up to me! And I found out recently he drives an Audi R8. If you're one of my ROTSS readers, you know I have a total Volkswagen obsession and I drive a Passat! Which is the po' girl's Audi. YAY! He loves German engineering as much as I do! We can race on the Autobahn! YAY!**

**Credit Where Credit Is Due: **

**DUCKBUTT had a wish for Bill to bite it via 'Ultimate Frisbee.' And she was disappointed the bear didn't piss on Bill's head at the end of 'Hard Hard Rain.' I hope this makes up for that. Thanks to Hanna Barbera's Saturday Morning Laff-A-Lympics! Anyone else remember those? I always rooted for the Scooby Doobies and my brother always rooted for the Yogi Yahooeys.**

**If you read ROTSS, you know I'm obsessed with a certain late night Scottish talk show host, "Greg" Ferguson. (I posted Chapter links. Sh.)**

**Team Eric v. Team Bill: Have you donated to the real-life fundraiser standoff between Team Eric and Team Bill? Bill/Stephen Moyers's charity really is Gulf Relief Foundation. Eric/Alex's is SOS Children's Villages.**

**/battle-of-the-fang-a-looziana-grudge-match**

**Dedications:**

**To Tiffany and Ian, my most awesome married couple readers. Tiffany shares the fun and joy of Bill biting it with her hubby Ian who is stationed in Kandahar Afghanistan. Apparently Ian laughs so hard, it makes him spit up on his laptop! YAY! My plan to destroy all laptops continues! **

**Reviews/Death Wishes (LOL!)**

**Reviews welcome. Tweet me ideas too! I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. 1,001 is a lot, but you know what they say? It takes a village! I'd love to end it early 'cause that would mean TB stopped sucking ASS.**

**I'm thinking of having Bill befriend a Hollywood writer/producer in a story. Then they could bite it together. Thoughts? **

**NEXT UP: Oh No! Vampire Bill! OH MY GOD! You're a vampire now, too? **


	7. Tribute

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. (Altho kudos to the actors who portray Bill, Pam, and Eric.) As always, I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure' and 'Tissues.' It is also the same, **_**sorta**_**, as "The Dead Couple." Please read "The Dead Couple" if you haven't already. I'll explain later.**

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**IMPORTANT MESSAGE: ****MANDATORY**** IMAGE ASSOCIATED WITH STORY. YOU MUST LOOK AT IT. REQUIRED. IT IS **_**NOT**_** FUNNY WITHOUT IT.**

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William H. Compton—Bill or Vampire Bill as he was known by most of the town folk of Bon Temps—was on a mission. He was out to save Sookie Stackhouse.

Sookie, his former girlfriend and love of his death, was in trouble. As a side effect of a human drinking a vampire's blood, Bill could, if they were strong enough, still sense Sookie's emotions. If her heart were racing fast enough, if the adrenalin was pumping so that it might overwhelm her, he could sense it.

Which is what had happened that night. Bill felt Sookie's heart nearly explode within her chest. Fearful that there was something wrong, Bill tracked her. Which is what brought him to his current location: standing outside, waiting on a line to get into the vampire-owned Shreveport nightclub, Fangtasia.

For the third time, Bill attempted to gain the attention of the vampire checking IDs and collecting the door fee.

"Pam! Pam!" Bill called out, raising his voice.

"Bill, why are you shouting at me?" Pam Ravenscroft looked at him. "Have you forgotten— with all your 'mainstreaming'— that we're vampires? I can hear you. I could even hear your wailing monks as you pulled into the parking lot."

"Well, why don't you call me to the front of the line?"

"Why, Bill, that wouldn't be fair to the breathers, now would it?" Pam glanced at a boy wearing a goth costume. "Their futile existence is already plagued with an expiration date." Pam raised an eyebrow at gothboy as she handed him back his license. "You'd have me waste more of their precious moments by bumping you to the front of the line? I thought Southern men were supposed to be more chivalrous than that." Smirking, she posed a suggestion. "Why don't you just take a moment while you wait to wallow in your angst? You know how much I enjoy watching that."

Bill glared coldly at Pam.

Eric and Pam couldn't be more annoyingly alike if they actually were blood-related parent and child, he thought.

Eric. Eric Northman. Bill's superior in the vamp hierarchy. As well as Sookie's current boyfriend.

Likely the one who was currently putting Sookie at risk. Bill, agitated, made a motion to walk past Pam. Pam quickly blocked his way.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Ah know Eric has Sookeh in there. Ah won't let him hurt her."

"'Hurt' her? Is that what they're calling it these days?" Pam rolled her eyes. "I think I heard him 'hurt' her already five times tonight."

"Pam, Ah'm serious," Bill intoned dramatically. "Ah sensed something. Sookeh needs mah help."

Pam, quirking an eyebrow, internally debated whether or not to admit Bill into the club.

Normally, she would not even consider letting Compton into the club so easily. Making Compton's existence more difficult in any manner possible was an unspoken rule of her master's. But Pam was feeling a bit petulant. Her master's slightly boorish behavior earlier that evening still rankled.

_Well_, she thought, _it would certainly teach Eric a lesson for his less than gracious response to my tribute. How dare he suggest we donate my gift for police target practice_.

Pouting, Pam made up her mind. She pushed open the door.

"If anyone asks," Pam warned him, "you're on floor duty."

Bill nodded and quickly disappeared into the club.

Wandering around the main floor of Fangtasia, Bill glanced around wildly looking for Sookie. He hadn't sensed her in a while and he was concerned. He knew she wasn't dead, but still he worried.

_Ah hope Eric hasn't harmed her with his lethal lothario ways_, Bill thought. _One would think after a thousand years, he'd have satiated his base manimal appetites._

"Sookeh! Sookeh!" Bill could see she wasn't in the bar, nor was she seated at Eric's customary booth. He went to the hallway where the private offices were.

"Sookeh! Sookeh!"

Bill stilled himself. He felt her. It felt similar to the feeling he had sensed earlier. It felt as though her heart would explode out from her chest. Then quiet.

_Ah must find her_, Bill thought.

Bill came to the last door in the hallway. He knew from past visits to Fangtasia that it was the door to the basement. The door to Eric's torture chamber.

_Mah Sookeh_, he thought. _Ah'm coming to save you._

Opening the door, Bill cautiously made his way down the steps.

He heard them. The horrifying sounds of their wild coupling. Animalistic grunts. Slapping of flesh. Chains clanging. Yelling.

Bill paused midway down the steps. He could do nothing but stare. It was truly a sight to behold.

Seeing it with his own eyes, he was horrified by the depravity.

_That monster is torturing her_, he thought. _Ah don't believe she's even conscious_.

Sookie was chained to a wall, her wrists encircled by metal handcuffs. She was naked. Eric was also naked and he was penetrating her repeatedly.

Bill, caught like a deer in headlights, could only stare.

Meanwhile, Pam was making her way down the hallway towards the basement door.

_Hm, I don't know why Eric didn't appreciate my tribute to him_, she thought. _Sometimes, he lacks imagination_._ I thought it was quite appropriate to have the tribute sit on the throne._

Glancing at the 'tribute' in question, she directed her next words aloud to it.

"I don't get why Eric doesn't like you," she said. "I swear. Just because the knitting class was my idea, he doesn't like anything I knit. I told him you were a symbolic representation. I didn't imply that he looked like you but he still doesn't appreciate you, does he?"

Pam was bringing the tribute down to the basement. She knew that's where her master and Sookie were but she figured since he'd instructed her to get the tribute off the floor and not to stick it in his office, he'd recognize the only other place for it would be the basement.

Also, she figured her master and Sookie would be otherwise occupied and would not notice her sneaking downstairs to deliver the tribute.

Pam smiled at the tribute. She quite liked it. She had taken special care to ensure that it was anatomically correct. There was really only one part of it that closely resembled her master and she figured he ought not complain about that.

With the tribute held out in front of her, she walked to the basement entrance.

Bill, on the other side of the doorway, was still standing, frozen, watching Eric and Sookie.

Suddenly he heard a voice.

"Compton, are you watching to take notes to improve your performance and, thus, in some roundabout fashion, add value to my area?" Eric's voice was a mixture of contempt and bemusement. "If not, you've got three seconds to get out."

Bill, so startled that Eric should speak to him while continuing to defile Sookie, made, without a second thought, a turn to walk back up the stairs. He had taken one step towards the top, when suddenly the door opened.

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**VIEW LINK: SEE PROFILE ONVB CHAPTER 7 LINK "PAM'S TRIBUTE"!**

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Suddenly, at the top of the steps was a strange life-size creature. Bill was so startled by it, the hideousness of it, that he, without thinking, took a step backwards to get away from it.

The only problem with that response was the fact that there was no step behind Bill upon which to step onto.

Before he had an opportunity to remember he could hover, Bill fell, toppling over, hitting step after step.

From where he stood, with Sookie, Eric actually paused to glance over at the commotion on the stairs. Seeing Bill falling down the stairs, Eric frowned.

Pam, in the meantime, stood on the landing holding the life-size tribute doll. Moving the doll away, an eyebrow quirked up as she watched Bill cascade down the steps.

Sookie, wondering what was going on, breathlessly mumbled,

"Eric? What's going on? Honey? Why'd you stop?"

Bill, in the meantime, continued to tumble down the stairs.

Pam, at the top of the steps looking down, realized with amusement mixed with horror, that the human cleaning staff had left a bucket with a broken broom at the bottom of the stairs. The wooden broom handle had been cracked split. Less than half the height of a normal broom handle, the modified broom actually made a good dust broom. Always good with math, Pam figured the odds of Mr. Woe-Is-Me actually landing on the broom handle were exceptionally low.

That is, until he hit the third step from the bottom and finally made a motion to lift himself up. The additional height put him right on level to make contact with the broom handle. Which is exactly what happened.

Bill's final turn on the staircase resulted in him landing right on the metal mop bucket filled with dustpans, a half-empty bottle of "Mr. Quinn" as Eric liked to call the cleaning solvent, and the jagged, wooden broken broom handle. Pam heard Bill make a suitably pathetic "agh" sound as his back landed on the splintered broom handle and he was skewered like a marshmallow on a toasting stick.

Pam, still holding the tribute doll, ran down the steps to ascertain the extent of his injuries. Which, she figured, would be extensive. Leaning the tribute doll upright against the wall, Pam crouched down so she could speak to Bill.

"Bill?" Pam could see the broomstick had punctured him deeply. It would only be a moment if that long. Once the Bill marshmallow skewer sunk in a few inches further, Bill would certainly be a definitely dead vamp.

Pam shrugged. Perhaps it was for the best. He'd always been so incredibly sanctimonious and self-loathing. Not to mention, he made a really bad vampire. All things considered, this was a win-win.

Glancing over to her master's play area, she saw that since it was quiet once more, her master had resumed his love-play with Sookie.

"Bill?" Pam prompted him again.

Opening his eyes, Bill stared at Pam.

"I'm sorry, Bill. You know you have only a few moments. You," she tried not to laugh, "fell down the steps and," _think crying babies with dirty diapers_, she directed herself, "landed on a broken wooden broomstick."

Pam could see the formation of a sneer on Bill's lips. She wondered what his final words might be. She figured he's say something derogatory about her master. She waited.

Bill closed his eyes. His lips moved but no words came up. Opening his eyes, he finally spoke.

"Pam, did he force you to take knitting classes so you would make him a giant sock monkey? Don't you see what a jerk he is?"

A quirked eyebrow and flared nostrils indicated Pam's displeasure with Bill's final sentiment. While she had considered sparing him her biting words as his pathetic existence ended, she decided his own litany of acrimony more than justified her own.

"You are now, and were you to exist to be a million, you would ever always be but a fraction of the vampire he is!"

Pam stood up then. Grabbing the anatomically correct sock monkey away from its resting place beside the wall, she placed it on top of Bill.

"And that," she snarled, "goes for this too!"

With that, Pam stuck Sock Monkey Eric's enormous 'Gracious Plenty' —Pam didn't know why Eric insisted on calling it that—into whiny emo boy's mouth to shut him up.

With the additional weight of the six-foot-plus Sock Monkey bearing down on him, Bill's 'staking-by-broomstick' was hastened. The pressure pushed him down harder onto the broomstick.

Sp—

Sp—

Splat.

Pam watched as the vampire magic left his body. His form disintegrated, leaving only a cheap pair of Dockers and a boring polo shirt.

Pam stood up. She placed Sock Monkey Eric on the floor next to him.

"Here," she said. "You watch him." She stole a glance at her master and Sookie who were now locked in a kiss. Pam smiled. Into the air she spoke.

"Bill, I'm almost going to miss you. Almost."

She turned to head back upstairs.

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**A/N: I know. I'm a sick puppy. Moving on…**

**CREDIT/PROPS****: My friends from Tangler deserve major props for this 'Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" nightmare of a story. Thanks to LuvinLeif, SeraG, LunarBunny, Zinnea, Ancient Pythoness, ****BigPileofDust, ****Fffbone, ****Momma2Leos, and ****Ashmarie.** **In case you couldn't tell,**** they're also sick puppies…**

**Thanks to Mr. Johnson and creator Monika Lidman.**

"**THE DEAD COUPLE****": Oops. That was supposed to be a chapter of ONVB. Kudos to nycsnowbird for giving me the idea of making it a standalone. Thanks to Fffbone from Tangler suggesting the "Odd Couple" theme.**

**The premise of "The Dead Couple" is this: a newly created Vamp keeps trying to get Bill to do fun stuff to live a little and hopefully "loosen the stick" from his butt.**

**If Bill winds up okay at the end, a chapter goes into The Dead Couple.**

**If Bill winds up dead at the end, a chapter goes into Oh No! Vampire Bill. **

**Please note that this newly created Vamp will not always be a vamp in ONVB. Sometimes they'll be human. Yeah, I'm playing with the formula but Kenny was left dead for a season on South Park, so I figure I've got some wiggle room. Speaking of...**

"**TISSUES****": Not pointing fingers, but someone story-alerted 'Tissues.' Now, it's listed as 'Complete' and admittedly it always struck me as a 'oneshot' (LOLOLOLOL!), but this actually got me to thinking: I can't stand Alcide. I think Book!Alcide is a self-absorbed manwhore prick and TB!Alcide is a numby musclehead (I burst out laughing while watching the hospital scene and Alcide is like "Everyone has a blood type!" I was so surprised the writers expected us to believe Alcide knew that! LOL!) So, now I'm thinking of what new chapters "Tissues" could have:**

**Alcide becomes OCD about germs because of Eric.**

**Alcide sees a therapist because he's emasculated because of Eric**

**Alcide's latest slut belittles him because of Eric**

**Anyway, I realized that there may be more juice (LOL!) to the story if I decide to shake it out a bit (OH GEEZ! I AM SO SORRY!). I'd love to hear your thoughts on this and if you have story suggestions.**

**REVIEWS****: You know something? Have you ever read the reviews for this story? You guys are HILARIOUS in your reviews! I love reading your reviews! Speaking of which, please forward more death wishes. Please read "The Dead Couple." Feel free to give ideas on "loosening the stick" activities. Also welcome, any ideas on Alcide. **

**I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM.**

**THANK YOU!**

**NEXT UP: Oh No Vampire Bill! No clue! But I can tell you this: He dies! **


	8. Twelve Steps

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. As always, I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die.**

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure,' 'Tissues' and "The Dead Couple." You should read them. I will reference stuff. It's what I do. It's all I do. I'm a reference terminator.**

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Dr. Amy Ludwig's car pulled into the parking lot of an empty industrial building. Instructing her driver to wait, Dr. Ludwig got out of the car and walked toward the building. A supe doctor, Dr. Ludwig had, at the behest of one part fairy, Sookie Stackhouse, scheduled a 12-step one-night intervention program for the supes of the Greater Shreveport area.

As she approached the building, Dr. Ludwig noted a sign on the building's facade.

"Herveaux Contracting."

_Hm_, she thought, _I guess I know at least who one of my patients is_.

Entering the unlocked building, Dr. Ludwig sniffed the air.

Were. _That would be Herveaux_, she assumed.

Shifter. _Not sure._

Vamp. _That could, and likely should, be all of them,_ she joked to herself_. _

Finding her name on a handwritten sign taped to a wall, the doctor turned in the direction the sign's arrow instructed.

Dr. Ludwig proceeded down the dimly lit hallway until she came to a door that, once again, had a sign with her name on it. To the right of the doorjamb, there was a mail basket holding a manila envelope. She grabbed the envelope.

Bracing herself with a deep meditative breath, the doctor opened the door.

Door open, she glanced around the room. Noting who was there, she had to admit she wasn't surprised by any of the program participants. There was an unfamiliar vamp, but she didn't pretend to know all of them. She didn't like them, so it wasn't like she went out of her way to make vamp friends and acquaintances.

Dr. Ludwig walked in and shut the door behind her. She padded her way to the front of the room. The room, set up like a classroom, had a desk at the front. The doctor knew the room's student seats had originally been placed in a circle. It was obvious that the supes had trouble sitting next to one another, as the one-time circle formation was now a mess.

The room had several large windows at the far wall. They were shut. A huge light fixture with a fan hung from the center of the ceiling. It was not running. That would not do.

"I know you vamps don't feel the heat, but Weres and shifters run hot." She shook her head. "None of you has any common sense?" She scolded them.

The supes all looked guiltily at one another.

Dr. Ludwig doubled back to the doorway and flipped on the ceiling fan. Returning to the desk, she sat down. Looking up, she spoke.

"I know most of you. I'm Dr. Ludwig. I'm a healer. Each of you is here because your friend, Sookie Stackhouse, is concerned you have an obsessive compulsive disorder that's negatively affecting your quality of life," she nodded at the Were and the shifter, "or your death," she turned to the vamps.

She emptied the manila folder onto the desk. Looking down at the stack of forms on the desk, she started to peruse them.

Finally, glancing up, she saw Eric Northman and Bill Compton staring stakes at one another. Russell Edgington, tears streaking his face, was obviously still mourning his husband's final death. Alcide Herveaux was furiously Windexing the desk he had yet to sit down at. Pam Ravenscroft was knitting at vamp speed. The shifter Sam Merlotte was angrily punching his fist into his own hand. One fugly-looking vamp was shaking dust from his hair and, watching the flecks settled on the desk, was then attempting to converse with them.

_Hm_, Dr. Ludwig thought, _this is going to be a long night_.

Clearing her throat, she managed to gain the attention of the supes.

"Okay, everyone," rising from her seat, she walked over to where the motley crew sat and, pulling a chair over, settled herself among them.

"Make a circle." The supes grumbled in response, but Dr. Ludwig would have none of that. "I don't care who doesn't like who." Moving seats around, they complied with her request. "Okay. We have some familiar faces, but we should still go around the circle and introduce ourselves. To those of you who don't know me," she glanced at the dandruff-whisperer, "I'll say a few words about myself. I'm Dr. Ludwig, as I mentioned, and I'm a healer. Usually I heal physical disease but I do heal disease of the mind, too. When it's warranted. Sookie Stackhouse, whose intelligence I hold in higher esteem after tonight, recommended each of you could benefit from a little counseling. I'd like to go around the room and have each of you say a few words about why you're here this evening. Be honest. You're among friends."

She looked at Compton who was glaring at Northman, who, in turn, appeared oblivious. She looked down at the forms on her lap. The top one was for Northman.

"Mr. Northman, let's start with you."

Eric Northman focused his piercing blue eyes on the doctor. He remained silent.

"Tell us why you're here, Mr. Northman."

Eric Northman, the Vampire Sheriff of Louisiana Area 5, the Shreveport region, sat languidly with his long legs extended out in front of him. He turned his glance away from the doctor, instead staring forward. Finally he spoke.

"There is nothing wrong with me. I am here to fulfill an agreement. That is all," Eric distractedly flecked an imaginary speck of dust off his t-shirt clad arm.

"Uh-huh," Dr. Ludwig replied. "Not so fast, vampire. I have a form here with your name on it. Someone's written in 'sex addiction." She looked at him.

Pam snickered, while the fugly vamp guffawed.

"That," Eric said, frowning, "is clearly a joke." He turned to glare at Compton who met his stare with a smug look.

"Well, that may be. Someone else wrote down" she glanced at the sheet, "insensitivity in the workplace."

Eric's head shot around to look at Pam Ravenscroft, his vampire child and 'second.'

"Pam. Explain."

Pam, laying her knitting down on her lap, turned to her master.

"You did not properly appreciate my tribute to you."

Eric rolled his eyes and muttered something in his native tongue.

"Pamela, just because I suggested we regift it to Compton does not mean I don't value the effort you put into its crafting."

Pam huffed.

"That is not how I see it, Master."

"Okay, next," Dr. Ludwig looked down at the next form. "Ms. Ravenscroft, why don't you go next? I see your name is crossed off and another is filled in but then that's crossed off too. Something going on you want to share?"

Pam's gaze met the feisty, vertically challenged doctor head-on.

"I am the victim of identity theft. A _self-aggrandizing queen_ has commandeered my identity and purported a false surname. They have even stooped to the level of implying I was, at one time, a prostitute," Pam's tone was venomous as she hissed out these words.

"Hm," Dr. Ludwig nodded. "I can see how that would make you angry."

Silently Pam nodded.

"According to the form, you're a compulsive class-taker? Is that right?" She looked at Pam who shrugged.

"I like to take classes. Dear Abby says it is a good thing."

"It says here you're a hairstylist. A seamstress. You knit. Crochet. Smelt. You belong to the ironworkers union?" She looked at Pam who shrugged again.

"Yes. Many times it is Eric's idea."

"No," Eric interrupted. "Do not lay this at my door. The hair and sewing, yes. But the crochet. The knitting. The quilting. The smelting. The entomology. All you."

Pouting, Pam threw Eric an angry look. She then, without missing a beat, resumed her knitting.

"Okay. Next. Mr. Compton."

Bill Compton glanced up, a brooding look on his face. He remained silent. They waited. And waited. Finally Dr. Ludwig had had enough.

"Mr. Compton, I recognize you've got the immortality thing but it's kind of balanced by the light of dawn thing. You feel like picking up the pace?"

A pained expression overtaking his features, Bill looked up. He spoke.

"Ah have troubles moving on."

Dr. Ludwig grimaced.

"No kidding, vampire. We just waited ten minutes for you to say five words," she said with a sigh. "In addition, your form says," she glanced down at the sheet, "depressive, obsessive, controlling, manipulative, magical thinker, video game addiction, and recycling OCD. You think we got everything?"

Bill, stunned, was having trouble formulating words.

"No!" He snarled. "_Ah am not all those things_!"

Elsewhere in the room, the sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard.

Bill's eyes darted around the room.

"Who did that?" Bill's eyes narrowed. "Eric? Pam?"

Pam made a pretend cough sound while Eric just stared at Bill.

"Ah know it was one of you, so you may as well own up to it!"

Eric was viewing Bill with derision.

"Compton, it was not me, but let's say it was. What would you have happen?"

"Ah'd have you admit it."

"So for argument's sake, let's say I have admitted it. Then what? I am your Sheriff, Bill. This is a truth you often forget. If I want to clear my throat at you, mock you, or sneer at you, it is entirely within my right. Do you not see this?"

Bill and Eric locked stares, while everyone else in the room silently observed.

Finally, the doctor intervened.

"Hm, Mr. Northman, I have to say you're not helping your case any. What was it?" Dr. Ludwig rustled her papers. "Oh, yeah. _'Insensitivity in the workplace_.'"

The doctor looked at Eric, whose face was now impenetrable.

"I am the Sheriff. Mr. Compton and I are not equals."

Dr. Ludwig harrumphed. She returned her attention to Bill.

"Mr. Compton, notwithstanding Mr. Northman's 'quirks', is there anything else you'd like to comment on?"

"Ah may have trouble moving on and Ah may play Wii a bit too much sometimes, but none of those other things are true."

Snickers could be heard coming from a couple of locations within the room. Bill turned around to look over his shoulder.

"Alcide Herveaux," Dr. Ludwig turned to face the Were. "You have yet to sit down. You have yet to stop Windexing that desk," Dr. Ludwig nodded.

"It's still pretty filthy," Alcide replied.

"Well, that may be the case, but you're a bit of a distraction. Can't you ignore that it's a little dirtier than you'd like, but sit down anyway?"

"No."

Dr. Ludwig harrumphed.

"Don't you work in construction? I can't imagine you're clean all the time while you're working?"

Alcide looked up at the doctor and then turned back to his cleaning activity.

Dr. Ludwig frowned.

"So what's happened to you to bring on this compulsive cleaning behavior?"

Eric snorted, while Pam snickered.

Dr. Ludwig cast her eyes in the direction of the two amused vamps.

"Mr. Northman. Ms. Ravenscroft. Is there something you'd like to share?"

"With all due respect, doctor, Eric is already_ sharing _with the Were," Pam responded, losing herself to peels of laughter. Eric laughed at his child's joke and threw her an appreciative grin.

Dr. Ludwig frowned at the two vamps as they continued to laugh.

"Yes, well, we'll get back to that. In the meantime," Dr. Ludwig set her gaze back on the Were, "Windex is for windows. You want something stronger for grime. You should go to Target."

Alcide's face went ashen at mention of the discount retailer's name, but he nodded. Still refusing to sit, he ceased his cleaning and stood resolutely still next to his seat.

The doctor continued with the introductions.

"Russell Edgington. You have my condolences. I know you and Talbott were together a long time."

"Yes, he made us a home. A home. It was a giant mansion with all the blood and vampire boys you could want!" Russell started to cry. "Oh, poor Talbot!"

"Yes, Mr. Edgington, I'm very sorry about your loss," Dr. Ludwig nodded.

"Would you like to say hello to him?"

Dr. Ludwig's face took on a puzzled look.

"What do you mean? He's definitely dead, isn't he?"

Russell stood and, reaching down, lifted an oversized Eastern Mountain Sports backpack from the floor and placed it on his seat.

"Oh. Uh, what have you got there?"

Russell took a glass cookie jar from his backpack. It was filled with red gelatinous goo. It smelled really _really_ bad.

A collective 'ew' made it's way around the room. Most of the other room occupants grimaced but remained where they were. Except for Alcide who shrieked and jumped to the far side of the room, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the King of Mississippi.

Holding Talbott in the glass cookie jar, Russell reached into his backpack a second time to grab something else. After some rustling in the bag, he finally stood before them holding his glass cookie jar in one hand and a portable Shop-Vac in the other.

"Mr. Edgington, is that who I think it is?"

"It is my _beloved_ _Talbott_."

Score, thought Dr. Ludwig. She had been wondering which of this crew would get the Most Crazy Award. She would've bet money on Compton.

"What's with the Shop-Vac, Mr. Edgington?"

"Ah… Sometimes the jar spills a little. I scoop up Talbott with the Shop-Vac and replace him to his final resting sanctuary."

"That's _disgusting_!" Alcide Herveaux appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Aw, come now, Mr. Herveaux. Mr. Edgington is a grieving, mentally ill vampire. Everyone processes grief in their own way." She turned to Russell. "Thank you for coming Mr. Edgington. I know you're a busy king."

"I will eat you, after I've eaten your children." Russell started to laugh.

Dr. Ludwig frowned. Turning to Eric, Pam, and Bill, she posed a question.

"Was he always this crazy?"

The three vamps exchanged looks and finally nodded. From the other side of the room, suddenly came another voice.

"Why don't you ask _ME_? Why don't you _SPEAK_ to _ME_?"

_Uh-oh_, thought Dr. Ludwig. _Forgot about Ole' Fugly over there_.

Glancing down at her forms, she deduced his name was Franklin Mott.

"Mr. Mott, what do you feel I should be asking you?"

"You...should...be...asking..._ME_...who...I...am…_MOURNING_!"

"Okay, Mr. Mott, who are you mourning?"

"I...am..._MMMOOOUUURRRNNNING_..._MYSELF_! I'm _DEAD_, you know!" Franklin proceeded to cackle hysterically.

_Score_! thought Dr. Ludwig. It wasn't often she had two loons of equal caliber in one session together. She sighed. It was going to be a long night.

She looked around the room. One supe left. Sam Merlotte. That was a puzzler. He'd always seemed to be on an even keel to her.

"Mr. Merlotte, always a pleasure," she greeted him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked…what...you...meant… by… that?"

_Aw, hell,_ thought Dr. Ludwig. _And the crazy shifter makes three_.

Glancing down at her forms, she found Sam's.

"So, Sam, it says here you've become a rage-aholic..."

Suddenly, Sam was standing menacingly over the tiny doctor. However, just as suddenly, Northman was there, baring fangs and growling at the shifter.

"Down, boy," Eric threatened. "Heel."

"Screw you, Northman," Sam laughed. "You know Sookie's got you wrapped around her finger. She wouldn't stand for you to hurt me."

"You're right," Eric nodded. Looking over his shoulder, he called, "Pam."

Pam laughed.

"My pleasure, Master." Pam stood up and joined the fracas at the front of the room.

Suddenly, a voice proclaimed.

"Hey, _WE'VE_ got a _LIVE_ one here," Franklin declared.

All eyes whirled first to Franklin, then to where he was pointing. Bill. Bill, who, levitating, was heading straight into the rotating blades of the ceiling fan.

_And_ _Compton makes four_, thought Dr. Ludwig.

Dr. Ludwig rolled her eyes. She had no idea the extent of mental illness in the Shreveport supe world. The rest of this bunch made Eric and Pam seem like poster-children for well-adjusted supes.

"Mr. Compton, what are you doing? Stop going up," she gestured with her hand. "Stay where you are. Talk to me a minute."

Bill complied with the doctor's request and hovered in place.

"Ah see a metal bottle cap someone has placed on the ceiling molding," Bill glanced down. "If Ah don't retrieve it, it'll never be recycled."

Dr. Ludwig frowned.

"Ms. Ravenscroft, go turn off the fan, please."

Pam walked over to the wall. She flicked the switch, just as Bill's head was within proximity to the rotating blades. Her eyes widened as the rotating blades, instead of going slower, began spinning faster.

In the meantime, Bill, his determination to retrieve the metal bottle cap refortified, had begun to levitate upward again.

Pam, having an electrical degree, deduced there must have been a short somewhere in the light fixture connection. Using one of her knitting needles as a screwdriver, she removed the switch plate from the wall. She proceeded to play with the wires, intent on halting the electric current and thus cease the rotation of the ceiling fan blades.

Despite the furious pace of Pam's effort, the ceiling fan continued to rotate. As the supes all looked up, it seemed as though the fixture were rotating faster. Bill continued to float higher.

Suddenly the fan's whirling sound ceased.

SKLURTCH!

With a quick spin, one of the fan blades lodged itself firmly into Bill's nearly severed neck. The vamp's body continued to hang by a thin layer of epidermis and dermis. But the weight was too great. The remaining flesh tore. Bill's body finally fell.

SPLAT!

Bill's body no longer an impediment, the ceiling fan resumed its rotations. Bill's head, sitting atop one of the large metal blades, flew across the room once the fan resumed its spinning. Bill's head smashed into the wall.

SPLUNK!

Bill's head hit the wall right next to where Alcide Herveaux had stationed himself. The traumatized were shrieked once more and ran from the room.

Bill's remains disintegrated quickly, for the most part, leaving only slight residue and goo. Along with, of course, his standard uniform, Dockers and polo shirt.

Pam, meanwhile, continued to play with the electrical wires. She was finally able to make the fan stop rotating. Satisfied with herself, she smiled proudly.

Dr. Ludwig was the first one to speak.

"Yes, very nice MacGyver skills, Ms. Ravenscroft," Dr. Ludwig nodded.

"Thank you."

"Maybe those classes serve you well."

Pam nodded and turned her attention to replacing the wires and switch plate.

Dr. Ludwig turned her attention to her other clients.

"Well, we still have a full night ahead of us. However, with Mr. Compton and Mr. Herveaux out of here, we should get done a bit sooner," Dr. Ludwig looked around. "I just have a little OCD myself. Mr. Northman, could you please bring Mr. Compton's clothes out to the dumpster?" Eric nodded and started to gather the vestiges of the former farmer. "Mr. Edgington, Talbott is quite safe in his cookie jar home. How about we use the Shop Vac on the goop Mr. Compton left behind?" Russell nodded and, laughing joyously, proceeded to vacuum up Bill's remains with a flourish.

Dr. Ludwig was nodding with some satisfaction until she heard a voice.

"Why don't you ask _ME_? Why don't you _SPEAK_ to _ME_?"

Uh-oh.

"Mr. Mott!" Dr. Ludwig nodded. "You're quite special. I was saving the best for you."

"You…were?" Franklin, shocked, began to cry. "No one ever…_EVER_…saves the _BEST_ for _ME_."

"Well, tonight's your lucky night, vamp."

Franklin nodded. He grasped his hands together as bloody tears welled up and rolled down his cheeks.

"What would you have me do to serve you, my lady?"

"Take Mr. Herveaux's Windex and paper towels and clean up the ceiling fan," she turned and pointed, "and that big blood spot on the wall where Mr. Compton's head hit."

"Yes, ma'am," Franklin nodded.

Dr. Ludwig looked at Sam Merlotte -who had resumed punching his open palm- and just shook her head.

Everything pretty much under control for the moment, Dr. Ludwig returned to her seat. She closed her eyes in quiet contemplation as she waited for the program to resume.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Once the evening's program was over, Eric, rather than going to Fangtasia to do club related tasks, or home to do Area paperwork, instead opted to go visit Sookie. He thought it important that he demonstrate just how _not_ addicted to sex he, in fact, was.

Groggy, Sookie felt a weight on the other side of the bed. She turned to face the window. Eric.

"Hello, lover."

Sleepy, Sookie could barely string words together.

"Eric?" She yawned. "What're you doing here? It's kinda late..." She yawned again.

"I am here to...snuggle."

Sookie giggled.

"Okay. Just let me keep sleeping. I was having a funny dream about Bill dying."

"As you wish, lover."

Slipping off his shoes, Eric lay down on the bed. Gently he tugged Sookie, enfolding her in his arms.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: I know. I know. But heck, you're all are reading it, aren't you? Moving on…**

**PS AN: I missed the ESN. Sorry. In the future, if not stated, it is implied. **

**CREDIT/PROPS****: All my friends from Tangler deserve major props. While unhealthy fixations and deeply rooted obsessions are always fun, it's much more fun with friends. **

**Extra Special Thanks to Zinnea who really played the part of the muse with this prize-worthy line about Russell: "**_**He is the multitasking mentally ill grieving vampire who will clean up his spilled gooey boyfriend while eating you after he's eaten your children**_**." Let's just all let that sink in.**

**Thanks to hdgcat for the idea that Pam's an overachieving class taker. **

**Thanks to 'The Breakfast Club' for being awesome. **

**Thanks to 'Mad Magazine' for 'sklurtch,' 'splat,' and 'splunk.'**

**REVIEWS****: Keep 'em coming! Remember, it takes a village to take out a douche bag as big as Bill. Just so you know, when you send on death wishes, I copy and paste them into a word doc appropriately titled "Kill Bill List". We've got about 53 on the list currently, but I'm always looking for more. **

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**FUN BONUS BILL HATIN' CHAPTER**

_**To folks not reading RoTTS and who have no intention of reading it…**_

**Return of the Stackhouse Six:**** I write my stories pretty 'in-character' so just knowing the names gives you a good handle on the characters' relationships. Anyway, RoTTS is an AH fic, kind of a foul-mouthed Disney. So, no Bill Killin'. There are, however, three awesome Bill Smackdowns. I recently posted the first of the trio, **_**Chapter 59: Favors from Pam**_**. There's a link on my profile (below the ON!VB! links) that will bring you directly to it.**

**Here's All You Need to Know****: Bill, Sookie's former fiancé, is a douche bag. He won't leave the Stackhouse farm. He wants to become an actor and he's blackmailing them with his unwanted presence until Eric and Pam agree to help him. Eric is an actor. Pam is a Hollywood manager and Eric's BFF. Eric and Sookie are, of course, together. Pam, with Maxine Fortenberry's help (a friend of the family), puts forth a scheme to force Bill out of the house. Maxine's a little OOC. Just a bit younger and hipper. **

_**That is all you need to know.**_

**Feel free to write a review or PM me if you agree OR disagree that that was all you needed to know. There are two more Bill Smackdowns in RoTTS that I'll happily share but if you read **_**Favors from Pam **_**and are like 'WTF is she talking about? I didn't get that at all!' someone should probably rein me in. THANKS. **

**I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. **

**NEXT UP: Oh No Vampire Bill! YMCA! **


	9. The Tennis Match

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby belongs to Alan Ball. He doesn't really deserve her, though. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. Again. **

—

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure,' 'Tissues' and "The Dead Couple." You should read them when you have a chance. I tend to cross-reference a bit. Speaking of, I stick to canon SVM EXCEPT when TB provides fun fodder for the story. All's fair when I'm hunting for a good laugh. **

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Bill Compton was walking laps around the indoor track at the Shreveport YMCA. It was the third night in a row he had finished off his living hours at the gym.

Bill, a 165-year-old vampire, had recently joined the Y to placate his sister-lover, Judith, and his twice-grandchild, Andy Bellefleur.

Andy was Bill's human great great great grandson through his ancestral connections to the Bellefleurs. He was also Bill's vampire grand progeny as it was Bill's vampire child, Jessica Hamby, who turned Andy into a vampire following a car accident that nearly took the man's life.

Since Andy's turning, the expanded household had fallen uneasily into a variety of new, evolving routines. One of which was the nightly foray to the gym.

At the Y, Bill would usually walk around the track. Bill liked walking laps as it helped keep him agile for his frequent walks through the cemetery adjacent to his home.

_Now that Ah have so many people living in mah house, it is even more important for me to get out on mah nightly constitutional._

Of course, the walks through the cemetery were also important to Bill because his former lover, Sookie Stackhouse, lived on the other side of the cemetery. Even though Bill and Sookie had not dated in nearly two years, he still had very strong feelings for her.

_Ah do still love Sookeh. Ah wish things had turned out differently between us. Ah wish Ah lived with her, instead of with mah family_, he thought wistfully as he completed his tenth lap around the track.

At 165 years young, Bill was experiencing his first mid-death crisis. Unfortunately, although he still carried a torch for his buxom, tanned former lover, she had long since moved on to brighter pastures. She was dating Eric Northman, the Vampire Sheriff of Area 5 and Bill's superior.

_Eric_. Just the thought of Eric made Bill frown. _Ah hate that cocky jackass._ _He thinks he's so cool just because he was a Viking and Pam does his hair. Ah am a Civil War vet. Ah am revered and beloved here. Ah even spoke to Sookie's grandmother's club, Descendants of the Glorious Dead. Ah don't see anyone asking Eric to give speeches. Sookie deserves better than someone who's 1,000 years old and doesn't even get invited to speak to the historical society. _

Of course, Eric—between his position in Vampire politics, his many profitable businesses, and his frequent sexcapades with his beloved girlfriend—did not really have much time left over for presenting at history seminars. This reality, however, was lost on Bill.

Escaping his ruminations about Sookie and Eric, Bill brought his attention back to his vamp family. Jessica and Judith were swimming laps as was their custom. Andy was in the weight room. It was where he spent most of his gym time.

Andy, a former Renard Parish detective, was trying to get a job on the Shreveport vamp squad. Bill and Jessica had told him that it didn't matter how much he exercised and lifted weights, his muscle makeup and body-fat-ratio would not change. Andy had become irate at the news and hadn't hesitated in blaming Bill.

"Aw, heck, Grand-pappy! Why didn't you vamps tell folks that? _'Hey, you might wanna drop a few, 'cos if something happens and we turn ya, you'll be carrying it around wit' ya forever?_'" Andy had shaken his head in frustration. "I'm gonna be portly forever 'cos you just _love_ keeping your _damn secrets_."

If Andy's dedication to the Y was born of some misguided notion that exercise might actually make him fit in his vamp form, Judith's motivations for encouraging the Y visits lied elsewhere. Judith wanted Bill to come out of his shell. Ultimately, she thought the family's Y outings were a nice activity for all of them. She was enjoying getting to know Jessica. She thought Bill and Andy, if they could look past each others' quirks, could become friends and genuinely enjoy each others' company like a true grandfather and grandson.

On this particular night, Judith had something different in mind. Following her and Jessica's swim, she thought it might be nice for the four of them to engage in a group activity, like a real family. She suggested doubles tennis.

"Oh, Judith!" Jessica enthusiastically embraced the idea. "I haven't played tennis since the 8th grade! I'd love to play! You think you can get Bill to agree, though?" Jessica rolled her eyes. "You know he's gonna say he'd rather play Wii."

Andy was more lukewarm, but still relatively accommodating.

"Hm," he grunted, "that always seemed like a _fag sport_ to me. Like ice skating." Looking up, Andy could see disappointment in Judith's eyes. _Aw, heck_. "But I'll do it for you, Judith." He grunted again. "Lord knows how you put up with _sorry sack_ over there." Andy jerked his chin gesturing to Bill.

Bill, of course, required the most coaxing.

"Ah don't want to play tennis at the Y. Ah can play Wii tennis if Ah feel like playing tennis."

"Bill, playing Wii tennis by yourself in the living room is not a substitute for socializing with others. I thought you agreed to making more of an effort?" Judith leveled a pointed look at him. Sweet and even-tempered to a fault, Judith was still a vampire. A vampire sired by Lorena Ball. She showed a little fang.

Bill, slightly perturbed, looked at her and then turned away.

"Fine, Judith" he agreed. "Let's play doubles tennis. How do you want to divide into teams? Older versus younger?"

"How about girls versus boys?" Jessica suggested.

Judith looked over at Jess and nodded.

"Excellent idea!" Judith thought teaming up with Jessica while Bill teamed up with Andy was an excellent way to build their respective relationships.

Andy grunted a non-committal "fine," while Jessica clapped her hands happily saying, "cool!"

A short while later, the quartet was positioned on the tennis court.

Judith was serving. Bill lobbied the ball back, to which Jessica hit a drop shot in response. This made the score 50 love.

"Huh!" Andy was already irritated. "First, you make me play this fag sport, Grand-pappy. Now you're gonna make me lose?"

"Well," Bill replied, "it was Judith who suggested we play."

Andy harrumphed.

"You just love doing that, don't you?"

"Doing what?"

"Throwing folks under the bus!" Andy exclaimed, an incredulous look on his face.

Bill just looked at him with a blank stare.

_Geez, I can't fucking believe this guy's 165 years old_, Andy rolled his eyes.

"Judith's your gal! Although damned if I know what she sees in you. I wasn't gonna upset her 'cause 1) she's nice and 2) you're the one who's gotta deal with a pissed off girlfriend. See how that's done? It's called watching someone's back. Exact opposite of what you do. With all your 'Oh! Wasn't me!' bullshit."

Andy, his point made, grabbed the ball from Bill. Tossing it up in the air, he hit it over the net. This time, Jessica lobbied back. The ball remained in play for a while. The players, used to playing after an hour, were actually not doing too badly.

Finally, they were tied 40-love in the third set, with each pair having taken one of the previous two sets. It was Bill's turn to serve.

"C'mon, Bill." Andy grunted. "You can do this. Ace it." Andy nodded encouragingly.

Bill turned to look at his great great great grandson and nodded. Once more facing the net, Bill tossed the ball up and hit it. A rather short volley, Jessica tapped the ball over the net. The women had the advantage.

"_Nice going_, Grand-pappy," Andy snarled.

"How was I supposed to know she'd reach it in time?"

Andy stared at Bill and, shaking his head, replied.

"Oh, I dunno. 'Cause she's a vampire?"

"Well, I'm sorry that we lost. Next time, Andy. I'll practice on Wii."

Andy grunted and mumbled something.

"What? "

"Geez, Grand-pappy, something wrong with your hearing? I said 'we haven't lost yet'. Boy, Pam was right."

"Pam? What did Pam say?"

"Aw, nothing. Just that you're a terrible vampire. She said Eric invited me to come over and hang with him next time Jess goes and visits with Pam."

Bill made a face. Maybe he hadn't wanted Jessica for a child. He definitely hadn't wanted Andy as a vamp grandchild. But he certainly didn't want Eric and Pam stealing their affections away from him.

"That is not true, Andy," Bill replied. "Pam is just jealous of my superior intellect."

Andy stared at Bill. Quiet for a long moment, finally he spoke.

"Naw, I don't think that's it. Can we just finish this now? You think you could hit the ball _hard_ this time?"

Frowning, Bill nodded.

Tossing the ball up, Bill served. The ball was in play for a while. This time each of the four had an opportunity to lobby the ball. Finally, it came down to a lobby from Bill. Bill hit the ball lightly, intending to snake the ball over the net. This was exactly the move that didn't work before because Jessica used her vamp speed to reach the ball in time. She did it again.

Game, set, and match went to Jessica and Judith.

"Damn!" Andy cried out. "You had to try that move again? Once wasn't enough?"

"Andy," Bill intoned, "it's just a game. We can go home and play Wii tennis." He nodded confidently. "I'm sure I'll win at Wii tennis."

Andy just threw a look of disgust at Bill.

Bill shrugged.

Furious, Andy, in a temper tantrum worthy of John McEnroe, threw his tennis racquet down with force. Still not fully aware of his new vamp strength, Andy was shocked when the wooden racquet broke into multiple pieces and the splintered handle actually ricocheted up from the ground. As if in slow motion, Andy watched the broken wooden racquet handle, so benign only moments earlier, transform itself into a vamp-killing spear flying through the air —and heading straight for Bill.

"HEY!" Andy called out. "LOOK OUT!"

But Bill was not paying attention to Andy in that moment. Eyes closed, Bill was meditating.

_Aw, fuck_, thought Andy. _We really gotta get him 'Listen Up.' How's a vamp this hard of hearing?_

Andy, Judith, and Jessica had discussed the apparent disappearance of Bill's vamp hearing. They'd even caught him blaring the television volume to watch the news. Not to mention the fact that he always seemed surprised lately when someone came to the door.

_"_HEY!" Andy tried again.

The broken racquet handle/ defacto stake continued its projectile path straight for Bill.

"AW, SHIT!" Andy called out. Resigned to the inevitable, he watched the unfolding scene.

The handle struck Bill's chest just as his eyes opened. Bill felt it before he saw it. Looking down, he was shocked to see the handle emerging from his chest.

"Ah, Ah've been staked!" Bill cried out.

In the meantime Andy, Judith and Jessica had made a circle around the soon to be definitely dead vampire.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Grand-pappy." Andy shrugged. "I threw it and I guess I don't know my own strength." Andy grinned awkwardly up at Judith and Jessica, who both nodded in understanding.

Bill, once definitely dead, disintegrated quickly. Pretty soon all that remained were remains. Gooey, sticky, clumpy remains. And Bill's gym outfit.

"Goodbye, Bill. I'll never forget you." This from Judith.

"Uh, yeah. Bye, Bill." This from Jessica.

"Bye, Grand-pappy. Maybe you'll be a better tennis player wherever you wind up." This from Andy.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Hours before dawn, Eric Northman was lying on his bed in downtime. Next to him was his sleeping girlfriend.

A buzz from his cell phone prompted him to reach over to his nightstand and grab it. A text message had come in. It was from a new vamp, Andy Bellefleur.

**A: Tennis accident tonight. Bill Compton's DD. Need to do anything?**

**E: No. That's fine. Care to be new Area 5 investigator? Bill didn't do much but with you in position, we would likely get work done.**

**A: Love to. Thanks.**

**E: Come by Fangtasia tomorrow.**

**A: Will do. See you.**

Eric ended the call.

Sookie, hearing Eric's continuous typing and the buzzes from his cell phone, stirred. She focused her eyes on Eric.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Bill has met his final death in a tennis accident."

Sookie sat up. She curled her lip in contemplation.

"Tennis, huh? Ah, that's too bad. I know Judith was hoping to get him out of his total gloomy emo phase."

Eric raised a brow in disbelief.

"I know, I know. Easier said than done. Still, for her sake, I was hoping."

"Yes, well," Eric gave Sookie a heated look. His eyes were filled with desire. It made her gasp.

"What?" She asked, laughing.

"You know what I'm hoping for?"

"Hm, I think I do. Your face is usually pretty much a mask. Except for when it comes to one thing."

"One thing?"

"Yes."

"Which is?"

"Me."

"Yes. You."

Eric lowered his lips to meet hers.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: Aw, I remembered the ESN! Bill's dead! Andy's the investigator! Jess and Judith are free! Yup, **_**we're**_** all still sick puppies…moving on…**

**CREDIT/PROPS****: To John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors, of course. I guess I can thank a couple of my coworkers, Coco and the Windbag, for prattling on and on about the US Open this past week.**

**Chris Bauer deserves major props too. I LOVE HIS ANDY BELLEFLEUR. **

**REVIEWS/COMMENTS****: Please. I have a good imagination but 1,001 is a lot even for me. Altho, I did see a few of my equally twisty friends on Labor Day and came away with no less than 15 more death ideas including "accidental slaying by elderly blind woman with wooden cane." (LMFAO.)**

**POST-SCRIPT: ****If you read Chapter 8: Twelve Steps early on, go back for a quick once-over. I originally forgot the ESN. I would have left it but EtheHunter called me on it. DOH! But it was the right thing to do. Unlike some "_self-aggrandizing queens_," I hold myself accountable to the concept and integrity of CANON. **

**I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. **

**NEXT UP: Oh No! Vampire Bill! Is Bill dead? **


	10. Dean Digs for Treasure

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. As always, I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

—

**NOTE: This Sookehverse is the same as 'Niall and Bill's Adventure,' 'Tissues' and "The Dead Couple." You should read them when you have a chance. I tend to cross-reference a bit. Speaking of, I stick to canon SVM EXCEPT when TB provides fun fodder for the story. All's fair when I'm hunting for a laugh. **

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

William Compton, using his vamp strength and speed, dug a hole in the ground. Climbing down into the hole gingerly, Bill laid himself down. Using his index fingers, he poked at the dirt mounds on either side of his burial plot to encourage them to collapse over him, and cover him.

_Ah_, thought Bill. _This is so nice and refreshing_.

It wasn't often that Bill got to sleep in the peaceful cemetery outside his home. Since he had accidentally acquired a family, these quiet interludes were few and far between. Bill gratefully welcomed them whenever they occurred.

Bill's vampire child, Jessica Hambey, had gone away for the weekend with her human boyfriend Hoyt Fortenberry.

Judith, Bill's vampire sister — they shared the same maker— was back at her home for a week. Judith was, Bill had to admit, much more than just a sister. They were lovers. He loved her dearly.

Bill's great great great grandson and vamp grandchild, Andy Bellefleur, was at his human family's home. He and his human wife had converted a light-tight room for Andy so he could spend more time over there. They weren't sure if the human-vamp marriage would work, but Andy was determined to see his child more. Or, more accurately, as he said to Bill, given the choice of a human baby always crying or a big vamp baby always crying (meaning Bill, of course) Andy said he'd opt for the human baby.

Resistant to being vampire, and set in his human ways to an unprecedented extent, Vampire Andy, Bill thought, was very much like human Andy. One night the previous week, Bill and Andy had gone to Merlotte's. This had been at Judith's urging, of course. Judith was always trying to get the two of them to spend quality time together.

Andy shocked Bill by actually ordering hot wings. Bill had just sat there staring at Andy who, in turn, had just sat staring at the wings.

"Andy, Ah know you know you can't eat those wings," Bill intoned seriously.

Andy looked up at Bill and grunted.

"I know, Grand-pappy. I know," Andy nodded. "My stomach ain't what it was. I used to drink hot sauce straight out of the bottle," Andy said with some sadness. "That was a good time."

So Bill had just sat with Andy while the young vamp had stared at his beloved hot wings, a single blood tear tracing a lonely path down his cheek.

Back in the present, Bill, lying in his dirt sanctuary, closed his eyes in restful relaxation. He was so happy that no one was home. He had not experienced such a profound feeling of contentedness and well-being since he'd been forced to give up his midnight yoga classes. When it had been just he and Jessica living in the Compton Mansion, Bill had found it easy to steal away for a bit at midnight. Honestly, the girl was rarely home and seemed to want to have little to do with Bill when she was home.

But with Judith and Andy, it was a different story. Judith— as Bill's sister-lover— had certain expectations of Bill's time. In addition, she wanted Bill and Andy to forge a real grandfather-grandson bond, so she was constantly pushing the two vamps to spend time together. As much as Bill adored his sister-lover, he had to admit he was getting more than a little tired of her constant fretting and interference.

_Ah don't know why she likes to nag me so much_, Bill thought. _It's like she came back into mah life because she didn't have anyone to nag in her life._

Lying there in the rich Louisiana soil, Bill smiled. He was very pleased with himself. Taking advantage of Judith's weeklong absence, Bill had decided to do something a bit out of the ordinary. A couple of things that were out of the ordinary.

The first unusual thing Bill did was went alone to Merlotte's for a True Blood earlier that evening. Bill was hoping to have an opportunity to speak with his former girlfriend, Sookie Stackhouse, who worked at Merlotte's as a barmaid.

_Sookeh, Bill thought. Ah miss Sookeh._

Although they had gone their separate ways many months earlier, Bill still held onto a dream of the two of them being together.

_Ah could teach 3rd grade. Sookeh could sell real estate. We would be so happy together._

Of course, Bill's dream was just that. A dream. Completely divorced from reality, it ignored the fact that schools operate during the daytime, real estate sales in Bon Temps were sluggish at best, and, for all intents and purposes, Sookie seemed to want nothing to do with Bill. She had Eric now. Eric Northman, her new boyfriend.

_Eric_, Bill snorted. _Ah loathe him. He's so vain. Ah do think he changes his hair and clothes more than Cher._

Regardless of Bill's feelings regarding the vampire, Eric Northman was, in fact, Bill's superior in the vamp world. As much as Bill hated him— and he did— if Eric said 'Jump,' Bill's response was 'How high?'

Settled deep in the dirt, Bill enjoyed the feel of the cool, moist soil. With the dark, fudgelike earth packed tightly around his boxer-clad form, Bill felt quite happy indeed.

_Ah love the way the thick, packed soil fills the crevices of mah body._

Bill decided to turn his mind's wanderings away from the promiscuous sexual deviant to the beautiful warm Sookie.

_Ah would much rather think of mah Sookeh than mah Sheriff,_ Bill thought.

So Bill had seen Sookie earlier that evening at Merlotte's. It was quite fortuitous. She had been working there and Bill had sat in his old booth. Biting on her lip, she stared at him, seemingly debating whether or not to come over and take his order. Finally, she walked over.

"Hi Bill. What can I get you?"

"Hi, Sookeh," Bill smiled charmingly at her. "Are you surprised to see me?"

Sookie turned towards the bar where her boss Sam Merlotte stood. Although Bill couldn't see the exchange, Sookie had rolled her eyes at her boss, who responded with a snicker.

"Bill," Sookie stared at the door briefly before turning her focus back to Bill, "you called over here every day this week asking whoever answered the phone if I was working. Heck, Andy was here one of those times and asked if I wanted help getting a restraining order out on you. Eric's beside himself. I promised him if I felt you'd upped the ante on the whole creepy factor, I'd consider letting him put you out of your misery for good. So, when you ask if I'm surprised to see you, I'm gonna go with 'no.'"

Bill, a smile still etched on his face, heard only part of Sookie's reply.

"You're not surprised to see me," he nodded. "You wished for it, perhaps?" He placed his hand over his heart. "You felt my presence here?"

Sookie just rolled her eyes.

"Bill, what type blood can I get you?"

"I'll have an O+."

Sookie nodded as she jotted down the order.

"Coming right up." Sookie walked toward the bar to place the order.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside. Bill couldn't hear exactly what was going on. Maybe he would have to get that _Listen Up _over-the-counter hearing device that was constantly advertised on the Home Shopping Network. He didn't understand how he was losing his hearing but it seemed like that was what was happening.

Looking around, Bill saw that Sookie had gone outside, as had Sam and the witch waitress, Holly. Suddenly he heard the distinct sound of a dog barking. Bill stood up from his booth and walked down the hallway, past the restrooms, to Merlotte's rear entrance.

Once outside, Bill saw a small group standing out there. It was Sookie, Sam, Holly, and Lafayette. He joined them.

"What is the trouble?" He asked no one in particular. "Are you all right?" He directed this question to Sookie, who, kneeling down on the asphalt, was examining an injured dog.

Sookie looked up at Bill and frowned.

"Bill, I'm fine. We have this Collie here. He's the stray that sometimes plays with Sam...you know...on a monthly basis— "

Bill nodded. He understood.

"Well," Sookie continued, "the dog is hurt. He really should be taken in and cared for," Sookie's voice cracked as she was overcome with emotion. Looking at the injured dog, she wiped away a tear.

Bill couldn't stand to see Sookie cry.

_Ah bet that prick Eric won't let her have a dog because he's so selfish and insecure he doesn't want to have to share her with a dog. If Ah took in the dog, Ah could care for it. Ah could give it some of mah blood and help it heal. Then Ah could keep it. If it lived on mah grounds, Sookeh could come to visit the dog._

Suddenly there was movement. It was the shifter.

"AW, HELL!" Sam exploded. "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU ALL DECIDE ON! The dog can't stay out back permanently. Especially not injured. It'll attract other ...animals. I'm still recovering from my fuckbag asshole of a brother's visit. I do not...do you hear me?" Sam paused looking at his two waitresses and Lafayette. They all nodded. They were getting used to Sam's sudden "roid rages" by now. "I do not want this dog here. Get it out of here." Sam, disgusted, waved his hands in the air and went back inside the bar.

The vampire, the witch, the part-fairy, and the full-fairy exchanged looks.

Finally Sookie spoke.

"Well, you heard Sam. One of us has to take the dog," she took a breath. "I'm a little afraid my roommate Amelia might do something to Dean here. Plus, last time I had a pet, I came home and my cat Tina was dead swinging from the ceiling fan. I'm not sure I'm ready for another pet," she was petting Dean the dog. "Although, you're a cute puppy, aren't you? Yes, you are."

Bill had felt a surging at his loins hearing his delightful Sookie talk baby-talk to the dog. If Bill brought Dean home, he knew his Sookie would come to visit the dog. She would see how well Bill cared for the dog. Perhaps Bill could tell her how he'd become an honorary member of the Descendants of the Glorious Dead. He could tell her how much more centered and in control he felt now that he practiced yoga. He could tell her how he had become a strong environmental advocate.

_Ah bet the only thing Eric advocates for is public nudity_, Bill thought to himself. _Ah remember him talking about loving being naked and that he wished he could be naked more often. Perverted Swede._

Bringing his attention back to the present, Bill once more enjoyed the feel of the clumped moist soil packed tightly on the outside of his body orifices.

_Ah, this feels so good. This cool dirt is rich in nutrients. Ah believe the soil has beneficial effects, even on vamps._

Bill laughed at the thought that the dark, rich Louisiana soils might act like a Miracle-Gro. Maybe Bill's 'Little Bill Compton' might be a 'Big Bill Compton' one day soon.

Bill had fed Dean the dog some special Alpo. Bill had laced it with his blood so that the dog's injury to his hind leg would heal quickly. Bill was not planning on telling Sookie about giving the dog his blood. Sookie already thought Bill was ready to give his blood to anyone who asked. No, this way when Sookie stopped by for a visit— and Bill knew she would— he would just tell her his tender loving care is what healed the dog.

Bill continued to lie there waiting for his daily death to take him.

A couple of feet of compacted soil covered him but he swore he could feel the radiant heat of the sun refracting into the soil and warming his body. That was why Bill so enjoyed going to ground. But, on this day, something seemed wrong.

_Hm, that's odd_, Bill thought. _Ah feel like Ah'm getting warmer_.

Bill lay still for a few moments attempting to determine whether or not the soil was getting warmer. There was no reason for it, if that's what was going on.

Warmer?

Warmer?

Warmer.

Bill was not imagining it. Another thing Bill was not imagining was his blood. He sensed his blood right outside.

Who could it be?

Jessica and Judith were both away. There was no reason for Sookie or Sam to be over.

Bill heard a muted bark.

_Oh!_

Bill nodded. His new furry friend was feeling better and had missed him. How sweet. Bill smiled appreciatively into the earth.

_Eric would never take in an injured dig, care for it, give it his blood, and give it a home. Ah would do that. Me, Sookeh. Me. Not Eric._

Bill could hardly wait until dusk that evening. He was going to call Sookie and invite her over to see how well Dean was doing.

Bill heard another bark. And another. And another.

They were getting louder.

Uh-oh.

It finally dawned on Bill that Dean missed him so much he was digging Bill up.

"No, no! Dean! Heel! Obey! Stop!"

Hearing his master, Dean was overjoyed.

Woof.

Woof.

Woof.

The dog kept digging. Bill could now feel the dirt being moved above him. He really did feel the sun's rays playing over the soil that covered him.

"No, no! Dean! Stop! Stop!"

Woof.

Woof.

Woof.

Dean was overjoyed. He'd soon be reunited with his master.

Bill, in the meanwhile, was wishing he hadn't been such a Luddite in refusing to bring his cell phone with him when he went to ground. He just hated getting texts from Northman right before rest. It always put him in a foul mood. Especially when Northman would type 'Sookie says hi.' Bill didn't think Eric was with Sookie nearly as much as those irritating text messages seemed to imply, but still. It irked Bill. In any case, if he had his cell phone, Bill could've texted Sookie and asked her to stop Dean.

Woof.

Woof.

Woof.

Uh-oh. Closer. Bill's vamp blood really perked the pooch right up.

_Maybe, Ah can attack and kill Dean quickly, before the sun affects me,_ Bill wondered. _Oh, no. Mah Sookeh might come by and find a dead dog. That wouldn't be good. Hopefully something— a wolf— might be attracted to the carcass and eat it right up._

Since the point of taking the dog in was to impress upon Sookie how he was a much better person than Eric, Bill ultimately came to the conclusion that killing the dog over his grave and resuming his rest below the dead dog's body was not a good idea. This was especially the case as it would likely be Sookie who found the dead dog.

_Ah know. Ah can use mah glamour on the dog to make him stop digging for me._

Dean, in the meantime, continued to dig. He really couldn't help it. It was his new master. He loved his master. His master was buried in dirt. He loved digging things out of dirt. The dog sensed something special, too. The dog, of course, didn't understand the nuances associated with drinking vamp blood. In this, the dog was not alone. Apparently, for some, it was possible to read ten books that described the nuances of drinking vamp blood and still not understand it. So, Dean the dog didn't understand his heightened awareness, his stronger sense of smell, his sharper vision, or his overly 'excited' state. He knew, however, his master had a leg. Dean had an itch that needed to be scratched. The dog continued to dig.

Bill, his arms still tightly packed in soil, felt the dirt lighten over his face.

_Ah, oh no!_ Bill thought.

The dog decided to focus on Bill's face. He wanted to lick his new master. Bill's face was nearly exposed to daylight. Bill could feel the heat permeate through the light glazing of dirt.

Bill's fangs dropped. He decided he would kill the dog to survive.

"Ah, come here, dog!" He baited the dog.

Bill, however, never had a chance.

Dean kept digging around Bill's face, but never close enough to Bill's mouth for him to get at the dog with his fangs. Finally, Bill's face was exposed to the sunlight. For the first time in a long time, Bill could feel the direct rays of the sun.

Woof.

Woof.

Woof.

"No!" Bill cried. "No dog! Bad dog! Bury me! Bury me! Bury me!"

Woof.

Woof.

Woof.

Dean's ears perked forward in curiosity.

What was happening to his master?

Dean the dog watched as Bill's face quickly melted into a black gooey substance.

The dog sniffed it, but it didn't seem right. Where did his master go? Burnt by the sun, Bill's remains were smoldering. Dean didn't like that. So the dog lifted his hind leg and stopped the smoldering in a way only dogs can.

The earth, no longer supporting Bill's body, started to collapse beneath the dog. Dean backed away from the sunken in earth. As the dirt fell in, Dean noticed a tan colored cloth in the dirt. Dean bit down on the cloth— which turned out to be an Izod polo shirt— and, with the shirt held tightly in his jaws, wrestled it free from whatever Bill remains were still insistently holding onto his wardrobe favorite.

Spying a bird, the dog ran after it.

Woof.

Woof.

Woof.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Later that night, Sookie, standing in her doorway, moved aside to allow her large vampire Viking boyfriend entry into her home.

As it was raining outside and Eric had flown from Shreveport, he was dripping wet. Standing in Sookie's entry, Eric noticed water droplets pooling on her floor. He glanced at Sookie, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Sorry, lover. It seems I'm getting your rug all wet."

Sookie, amused, burst out laughing.

"Ah, very funny," still giggling, she wrapped her arms around him. His green Fangtasia t-shirt normally clung to his abs. It was especially clingy when wet.

Eric leaned down to give Sookie a scorching kiss. She happily reciprocated.

Sookie, finally, broke off the kiss.

"You know something?"

"What, my lover?"

"I think you should wear wet clothes more often. They look good on you."

She smirked at him. He loved when she teased him. It was an amusement that existed solely for her. Even Pam had limits.

"So, I am less attractive when my clothes are dry?" Eric asked with an amused arched brow.

"Well," Sookie wasn't giving up on it, "maybe just a smidge." She brought her thumb and index finger together to show him what a 'smidge' was.

Eric started to lean down and kiss her again when they heard a scratching sound outside followed by a dog's bark. A curious look on her face, Sookie opened the door.

"Oh!" Sookie moved out of the way as a very wet Collie bounded into the house. "Look!"

The dog, tan fabric in mouth, attempted to shake himself dry. Eric and Sookie found themselves even wetter than they had been.

"Sookie, who is this?" Eric looked at his girlfriend. "It is not your boss. It is not a shifter at all. Are you finally the object of true 'puppy love,' my lover?"

Sookie, meanwhile, had dropped to her knees and was inspecting Dean.

"Ha ha. Very funny, Eric," she continued to check Dean's rear legs. "This is a stray that hangs out outside Merlotte's. He's sweet as pie. He got hurt and since Sam's gone all psycho, we couldn't leave him there. Bill offered to take him in."

Sookie took notice of the fabric in Dean's mouth and after a few playful tugs she was able to free it from the dog's jaws. Seeing the Izod alligator logo, she sucked in a breath.

"What is it, Sookie?" Eric, still standing, towered over her.

"I think this is one of Bill's shirts..."

"You fear for his safety?"

She looked up at him. Biting her lower lip, she replied.

"Well, he is a neighbor..."

"Shall I call him? I would text him later anyway. I will call him to put your mind at ease."

"Thank you, honey," she smiled at him. "You know—"

"Yes, I know. It's what 'boyfriends' do."

"Yup!"

They were silent as Bill's cell phone rang. No answer.

Finally, Eric left a message.

"This is Northman. Your dog appears to have defected. Rest assured I shall care for it as well as I care for all else I have liberated from you."

Sookie groaned.

"Call if you would like to discuss this further," Eric glanced at Sookie who now stood before him. "Sookie says 'hi.'" Eric ended the call.

"Do you have to do that?"

"What?"

Sookie rolled her eyes.

"Why didn't he answer his phone?"

"Sookie, I could devote the rest of my immortal existence to attempting to understand the mendacious Mr. Compton and I concede now that I would," he leaned down to kiss her neck, "without a doubt," he kissed her a second time, "fail."

"Ah, hm." Sookie felt a charge of warmth ripple down her body and settle in her center. "I guess you're doing that thing you enjoy doing—where you insult him and compliment me at the same time?"

"Hm," Eric was now actively nibbling on her neck and shoulder. "Yes, lover. Whatever you say..."

"Whatever I say?" Sookie, quirking an eyebrow, looked at Eric. "Did I tell you Amelia said she's interested in Pam again?"

"Hm, lover," Eric's tongue was in her ear, "I told you that bitch was crazy."

Sookie pushed Eric back.

"Eric, are you paraphrasing from that Chris Rock special again?"

Eric raised an eyebrow and looked, bemusedly at his girlfriend.

"Perhaps..."

"Well, stop it! I hate feeling like I'm being handled!"

"That, Sookie, is not true. I believe you enjoy it when I 'handle' you."

"Oh," she shook her head. "You know what I mean!"

Stretching on her toes, she kissed Eric.

"Would you like me to search out Compton? Make sure he exists still?"

Just then thunder sounded in the distance followed by a flash of lightning.

"No..." Sookie tightened her hold around Eric. "I want you here. With me. And Dean." She buried her face in his chest. "Let's get a fire going in the fireplace."

Eric looked down. Blue eyes met blue eyes.

"As you wish, my lover."

"Thank you."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: I really liked this one…I think Eric and Sook would be really cute dog parents.**

**CREDIT/PROPS****: Big Viking thanks to Jan of Arc for the suggestion of a Dog + Sun = Dead Bill! Jan is still writing awesome fics. She's just moved on to a new home. She can be found on LiveJournal as jan_of_arc and also EricNorthman () net and fandomfiction () com**

**REVIEWS/COMMENTS****: Please. You know I need suggestions to get to 1,001. Although, I have to say TBEp12 pretty much _decimated_ Bill. I'm not sure I have enough residual anger to go to 1,001. Maybe 20? 50? Maybe I should have a poll? I plan on doing "accidental slaying by elderly blind woman with wooden cane." There's a new guy at work and twice (TWICE!) the man has nearly batted me with his cane. It can't just be a coincidence. **

**I'm still on Twitter as Miral_SVM. **

**NEXT UP: Oh No! Vampire Bill! Is Bill dead? **


	11. The Barnraising

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Portrayals may be influenced by True Blood. As always, I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die.**

—

**NOTE: This is part of my Sookehverse. There may be references in the story that you'd only get if you've read the other Sookehverse stories. I'm a hopeless referencer. Consider yourself warned. **

LEMONSooOOOooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOooOOOooLEMONS

**The Barnraising**

It was a warm fall night. Well past midnight, lots of creatures were stirring. At least in Bon Temps, Louisiana which was the stomping ground for many a vampire since the Great Revelation inspired vamps to "come out of the coffin". For most vamps, the reveal meant they could live freely and adapt to a lifestyle befitting their means. For Bill Compton, who cried when forced to give up silver dollars, despite the fact that they could bring about his final death, the Great Revelation meant he could take over the home of his dead ancestor, Jessup Compton, and reside there for free. Thrifty to the extreme, Bill was very pleased over the frugality with which he lived. This was why his current situation had him so piqued.

Bill, standing in front of his home, surveyed the damage to the structure. Louisiana had been hit by a Category 4 hurricane, Hurricane Anna. Since technically vampires were not permitted to own property—and Bill had been unwilling to part with the nominal sum necessary to establish an LLC —Bill technically did not have insurance that would cover the damage to his home.

_Ah cahn't believe that storm took the shingles off mah roof. All this repair will likely cost me money. Ah already spent money for Herveaux to upgrade the electrical system. Ah just don't have good karma_, Bill thought sadly as he shook his head.

Hearing a noise Bill looked up. Seeing the cause for the intrusion into his peace, he made a face.

Eric. Eric Northman was the Sheriff of the area in which Bill lived. As such, Bill was beholden to Eric. But Bill hated being beholden to Eric. As far as Bill was concerned, Eric was a big flying jackass. A big flying jackass who was currently flying over his home.

"What are you doing, Eric? Why are you flying over mah property?"

"Being a rather," Eric paused, "lofty individual, I thought I would fly above my area and survey the hurricane damage." Eric was smiling pleasantly enough but Bill knew not to trust him.

"Well," Bill snarled back, "are you going to help me or are you just here to say 'Ah told you so'?"

Eric, silent for a moment, flew slowly back and forth above Bill. Bill, hands on his chino-covered hips, just stood looking up watching Eric fly back and forth.

"Hm," his contemplation over, Eric finally spoke. "Did I tell you something Compton? Honestly, I can't recall..." Quietly, Eric drummed his fingers lightly on his chin. "Refresh my memory."

Bill unnecessarily sighed.

_Ah hate him_, he thought.

"You said Bruce and Cataliades advised everyone to create a LLC to secure our property and obtain adequate insurance."

Eric nodded.

"Yes, of course. I remember now. You, of course, being a stubborn, delusional self-loathing vamp incapable of confronting reality determined following such advice was antithetical to your thrifty self-image—"

"Ah am not cheap, Eric! Ah just don't like wasting money—"

"Yes, and now your claptrap hovel is in an even poorer state than it was prior to the storm. Do you not see the ramifications of your actions?"

Bill just stared at Eric

_Ah hate that smahrtypants_, Bill thought.

"Ah'll have you know Ah thought Ah'd get help from the government—"

"Yes? How did that work out for you?"

"Ah don't have a social security number, so Ah couldn't fill out their forms."

"Did you try calling?"

"Those bureaucrats wouldn't listen to me."

_Ah hate FEMA_, Bill thought. _Ah'll show them. Ah'm going to become a fan of the FEMA Sucks Facebook page_.

Eric, who had been floating above Bill, finally lowered himself to the younger vamp's property. He assessed the damage, a thoughtful look upon his gaze.

"Compton—"

"Yes?"

"I have decided to offer you my assistance, as well as the assistance of those in my retinue."

"You're going to give me money to fix mah home?"

Eric, his face impassive but for a hint of a smile, shook his head.

"No," he replied. "I'm not an idiot," he snorted in laughter. "And you are. Why would I hand you money to maintain your home when you would not so expend the money yourself?"

_Why is he such a jerk all the time?_ Bill thought.

"Well, what are you proposing?" Bill asked.

"Do you know what a barnraising is?"

"A barnraising? You mean like the Amish? Ah don't need a barn, Eric."

"Billy, Billy. Such a confined thinker you are. Rather than a barnraising, I am proposing we congregate at your ancient hut and do the work ourselves."

"What? You don't know anything about repairing houses."

In response, Eric rolled his eyes.

"Bill, I've been around a thousand years. You really think nailing your shingles is beyond my ability?"

"To be honest, Eric, Ah don't like to think of your abilities."

"Fair enough. I'd likely feel the same way if I were you. Regardless, as you are aware, Pam is quite skilled," Eric paused to which Bill nodded. "I will not force anyone but I will extend the opportunity that rather than Fangtasia duty, their obligations could be met through a night's work here."

Bill nodded. That would be good. It would save him a great deal of money, too. Bill was certain Alcide Herveaux hiked his prices for vamps.

Eric nodded and, turning, started to walk away.

Still feeling slight gratitude at Eric's offer of assistance, Bill felt obliged to offer some hospitality.

"Eric, would you like to come in for a blood?"

"Hm, no thank you," Eric shook his head, smiling. "My wife, as you know, lives just over here. I was actually on my way to her place. I'll be in touch. In the meantime, please try to keep your strange plywood hut together."

Bill's face took on a sour look. The thought of disgusting over-sexed Northman laying a hand—much less other of his "been there-done that" thousand year old body parts —on sweet Sookie was almost more than the Civil War veteran could handle.

Eric nodded and without another word, he was gone.

* * *

A few nights later, Bill was waiting expectantly at his home. Eric had called to let him know that some vamps would be coming by to help with the house repairs. Bill, meanwhile, had run to Home Depot and had rented some tools and equipment, including outdoor halogen lamps.

"Aw, I say," a Scottish-accented voice rang out in the night, "the lighting doesn't do much for your place. I think darkness is the way to go."

Bill made a face at his newfound friend.

Greg Ferguson was a down-on-his-luck alcoholic Bill had encountered in the Home Depot parking lot. The man claimed to be a former 1970s punk musician. Bill was more of a Grateful Dead fan than a punk fan, but the man had been regaling him with all sorts of stories of his debauchery and drug use. Bill offered him a few dollars if he came back to the house and helped with the repairs.

Actually, Bill had a grander scheme planned. He wanted Greg to keep Eric busy. Bill knew Eric was fond of reminiscing about the 1970s and his stupid ESL class. Bill was hoping that, by setting Greg up with Eric, he would be able to score some quiet time with Sookie. Bill desperately wanted to get her away from Northman. Lately, he'd been aching for her. So much so that he'd bought human food just so that the rotting organic produce could remind him once more of his former ladylove. He'd watched in disgust as Greg Ferguson had eaten the putrid salad of mucky vegetables. But the man had insisted it was delicious.

"I don't have much left to my taste buds really. Haven't eaten in weeks. Must say its life's cruel joke for a vampire to take me in."

Hearing a noise, Bill and Greg looked up. A minivan pulled up in front of Bill's house. Peering inside, Bill could see it was Pam, Franklin Mott, and Russell Edgington. One by one the motley crew made their way out of the van.

Bill nodded a greeting to his fellow vampires.

"Pam, is this all the vampires you could get?"

Pam pursed her lips in annoyance.

"Why hello to you too, Bill. The answer to your question is yes. Apparently you need to do damage control. You are not a popular vampire. I wouldn't even be here had Eric not commanded me. He offered everyone four weeks off of floor duty and still no one opted to take him up on it." She shrugged looking at Bill's house. "Honestly, I don't understand why we don't just tear it down. It is so old and musty. Eric said your bathroom is most unpleasant as the water is tepid and the acoustics are bad."

Bill made a face as he remembered that day many months before when, upon arriving home, he found a naked Eric bathing in his clawfoot tub. It was not a pleasant memory.

"Well, I see Russell and Franklin here. They must like me to want to help."

Pam gazed at Bill, a look of annoyance on her face.

"They don't like you, Bill," Pam replied. "Russell's insane and Franklin's been watching him. We seem to have another Bubba situation."

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'," Pam repeated sarcastically. "Besides Franklin has his own reasons for coming as well."

"His own reasons? What are those?"

"He likes to watch you and Eric fight."

Startled, Bill laughed.

"Eric and I do not fight."

Franklin snorted.

"Yes, because Eric would _kill_ you in a New York minute if you two were to fight!" Franklin laughed again. "I just enjoy watching your sexually undertoned alpha-beta love dance! Oh! You have no idea how much I enjoy watching it!"

Slightly perturbed by Franklin's words, Bill snickered nervously and glanced at Pam.

"That's ridiculous. There is no sexual undertone to my relationship with Eric. At least, not on my side." Bill turned to Pam. "Does Eric have some kind of...uh...feelings towards me?"

"Bill," Pam rolled her eyes. "Do you really think that likely? Eric is just a naturally sexual being," she smirked. "So don't get your hopes up."

Bill made a face. Suddenly Russell Edgington, King of Mississippi, was climbing out of the minivan.

"Hello! Why if it isn't the _mendacious_ Mr. Compton! How are you?"

"Russell," Bill nodded his greeting. "How are you? It is a pleasure to welcome you to my home."

"Ah, Compton, what a home it is, too," Russell's look of disgust belied the underlying meaning of his words. "You bought it as a fixer-upper, I hope?"

"Russell, it is my ancestral home. I lived in it as a human."

"Oh! How very..." Russell seemed to be at a loss for words. "How very gauche! Well, now that we are here, we will help you! Talbot will have ideas for the decor, I am sure! He loves lots of light—chandeliers and candles! Oh, it will look lovely!"

Bill looked questioning at Pam. Pam just shrugged. Bill thinking he had caught on, began to speak again.

"Oh, Russell," Bill nodded sympathetically, "you mean Talbot _would have_ had ideas, is that right? I had heard he had met his unfortunate demise."

Russell glanced at Bill, a curious look on his face. "Oh, well," he shook his head, "he's not himself these days, but I expect to find a solution shortly."

With that Russell leaned back into the minivan and pulled out a Lands End backpack. Pam wrinkled up her nose. Bill's eyes widened.

"What have you got there?" Bill asked.

"It's Talbot!" Russell put both hands into his backpack and took out an elaborate crystal cookie jar. "See? I always bring him with me now! I love him even more this way! He never complains! We are so happy!"

Bill turned to Pam

"Pam, that..." Bill grimaced, "smells horrible."

"Yes, I know," Pam shrugged. "Every time we go somewhere I must have Ginger clean and desanitize the minivan upon our return to Fangtasia."

* * *

Several hours later, Franklin and Russell were on Bill's roof attempting to secure the replacement shingles. Franklin kept giving Russell looks as the King of Mississippi insisted that he could not abandon Talbot so the crystal cookie jar was balanced precipitously on the rooftop along with the two vamps.

Eric, sipping a True Blood, was nodding as Greg Ferguson amused him with tales of his drunken, drug-infused exploits as a punk rocker.

"Then I woke up on the sidewalk outside Studio 54 with this glowing man with long hair and pointy ears staring at me."

"Yes," Eric nodded curiously. "What happened then?"

"He said he wanted to bring me to Faery. Can you imagine? He didn't even buy me dinner and he expected me to just go with him?"

"The nerve," Eric shook his head in mock disapproval.

"I know! Right? I may have been easy," Greg nodded emphatically as he proceeded to eat some moldy bread Bill had given him, "but I wasn't a total slut."

"Did the man tell you where Faery was?"

"Aw, no!" Greg shook his head. "My friend Stefon knew it though! He told me it was New York's hottest nightclub. With giant panda babies smoking cigars and squishies and liquored up pogos!"

Eric gave Greg a questioning look.

"What's a 'liquored up pogo'?"

Greg set a suspicious gaze on Eric. Finally, he smiled and burst out laughing.

"Aw, aw, aw," he vigorously shook his head back and forth. "_Cheeky monkey_! You almost had me going, there. What are you? _A thousand_? You expect me to believe _you_ don't know what a 'liquored up pogo' is? Uh-huh!" Greg continued to eat his bread, dipping it in a black purplish substance once known as hummus. "I may not be a thousand, but I wasn't born yesterday."

Pam, on a 'break' that had begun with Lafayette's arrival an hour before, sat on an outdoor lounge chair flipping through fashion magazines. Once in a while she'd lean over and point out something to Lafayette who had come over to help at Sookie's urging but as of yet had only succeeded in complaining to Pam how he didn't see his boyfriend Jesus enough on account of their overlapping work schedules.

Meanwhile, true to his objective, Bill had commandeered Sookie and was trying to talk to her about Eric.

"So, Sookeh," Bill smiled, "I wanted to thank you for coming to help restore mah home. It means a lot to me that you're here."

"Oh, Bill," Sookie smiled wanly at Bill. "I'm just here because I wanted to spend time with Eric. He is my _husband_, after all. You need to get that into your head."

Bill could not abide by her words. The thought of her willingly allowing herself to continuously be defiled by that vile plunderer was beyond his comprehension. Bill could only chalk it up to Sookie's unworldly innocence.

"But Sookeh, you don't know the real Eric Northman!"

Sookie rolled her eyes.

"You've got to be kidding."

"No, Sookeh, I'm not. You are very young—"

"Well, duh, Bill. You all are _vampires_! My dead gran would be a youngster to you all! You can't play that card and be all-judgmental! Eric—heck, _even Pam_ is way older than you!"

So involved in their heated discussion, neither Bill nor Sookie noticed the growing commotion occurring above them on Bill's rooftop.

Talbot, in his crystal jar home, slipped down to the edge of the rooftop. Russell, desperate to catch his falling lover, dove after him. Finally the dust had settled with Russell dangling, head-first, in a prone position, his arms locked around the glass cookie jar. Franklin was forced to abandon his activity of securing a shingle so that he could grab onto Russell's feet and make sure the King of Mississippi did not slide off the pitched roof.

As a result, a single unsecured piece of slate had started to slide down the roof.

Bill, wanting to demonstrate to Sookie just how much she meant to him, had gotten down on his knees, lowering his head before her in servitude. He thumped a fist theatrically against his chest as he attempted to demonstrate how her love had made his dead heart beat once more.

Eric, as he could fly, could have easily flown upward and caught the lethally falling slate shingle. Unfortunately, Greg Ferguson was much too amusing, entertaining Eric with tales of his friend Stefon and Stefon's escapades on the NYC club scene.

So, it was seemingly without warning that the slate shingle flew down in a blur. Propelled by gravity, the shingle's velocity increased exponentially as it approached its target with guillotine-like precision.

Pam, looking up, jumped from her seat and grabbed Sookie, getting her master's wife out of harm's way before the shingle was halfway to the ground.

Bill, kneeling, with his head bent downward, eyes closed, had no chance. The slate shingle sliced his overly emo head from his pale body before he even knew what was happening.

Franklin and Russell watched Bill's form disintegrate from above. Eric, Greg, Pam, Laffy, and Sookie looked on silently as they stood, surrounding Bill's remains.

Greg Ferguson was the first one to speak.

"Hey, I guess we're done here now. Could I maybe take a few things from the house?" Greg asked Eric. "The angsty vamp kept promising me money and food but the old skinflint never ponied up."

Eric nodded silently.

"Hey, Eric!"

Eric turned to the voice.

"Yes, my lover?"

"Why don't we have a little fun in here tonight? I suppose you're just gonna tear the old place down, huh?"

Eric glanced at Pam who shrugged.

"Perhaps the indigent needs a place to stay?" she suggested.

Eric nodded at Pam's suggestion and turned back to Greg Ferguson.

"Greg, would you like to live in Bill's home?"

"Aw, mate, you're kidding me, right? This place is a rat-infested tinderbox that doubles as hell-on-earth. You saw how angsty the vamp was."

Considering, Eric finally nodded.

"Agreed. Would you like the car?"

"Well, frankly, it looks like a car someone 170 years old would be driving, but it's better than nothing."

"Okay, then."

* * *

A few hours later, the only ones remaining at the house were a lone Southern belle and her strapping young man. Facing one another in a dimly lit living room that had seen better days, they only had eyes for each other.

"I do declare, sir. You are no gentleman."

Eric, deciding to go off-script, grabbed Sookie and pulled her in for a hug.

"Yes?" he breathed in her scent as his lips made their way along her shoulder and neck. "What am I then?"

"Um, I dunno. My boyfriend?"

"Sookie, Sookie," Eric, smiling, indulgently shook his head.

Sookie giggled.

"What? Your bullshit meter?"

Meeting her eyes, he replied.

"Yes, lover. As you are well aware."

"Okay. _Husband_," she emphasized the word. "Well, if we're really going to have Alcide knock this old place down, maybe we should enjoy the clawfoot tub one last time."

Eric leaned in to give Sookie a kiss. He decided to do a thorough job of it. When he finally pulled away she was breathless.

"What was that for?"

"That," he raised an eyebrow, "was for being you, Sookie Stackhouse."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: Aw, ain't that sweet? Special thanks to CindyKay for the suggestion of a slate shingle-induced beheading. OOPS. This is why certain things ought to be left to professionals. **

**FYI: I did **_**not**_** research U.S. federal disaster assistance for the undead. Technically businesses (e.g., LLCs) would receive disaster assistance from the Small Business Administration, not FEMA.**

**FYI: Just in case anyone didn't get the reference, Stefon is a Bill Hader character on 'Saturday Night Live' Weekend Update. I'll had a link to my profile. :D**

**Suggestions: I have TONS of ideas for the kill. What I need are new ideas for Bill's angsty rants on Eric, e.g. "big flying jackass" "vile plunderer" etc. Remember: They need to be lame, yet not so lame that they're not funny. It's a delicate balance. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Thanks.**


	12. The Longship

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. As always, I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

—

**NOTE: If you read this and wonder, 'why is Andy Bellefleur a vampire?' it means you haven't read "The Dead Couple." If you don't know who 'Greg' Ferguson is, check my profile.**

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

William T. Compton had the perfect shot lined up. It was drive shot and it would take the ball all the way to the green. He took several practice swings.

"Ah am good at this game," he muttered aloud.

Finally ready to make his swing, he looked forward, addressed the ball, and then readied himself for the swing.

**CHHH- CHHH- CHHH -CHHH- CHHH- CHHH!**

A loud clamor sounded just as Bill attempted to take his swing. Instead of executing his longdrive shot, he stumbled and fell, dropping his Wii joystick on the hardwood floor of his living room. Groaning in displeasure, he saw the device had cracked in two.

"Dammit!" he said aloud. "What is that damn noise?"

_Ah wonder if it's mah family_, he thought.

"Jessicah! Andy! Jessicah! Andy!"

Bill's family consisted of his vampire child, Jessica Hamby, and his vampire grandchild, Andy Bellefleur. Andy was also Bill's biological great-great-grandson. Bill hadn't wanted a vampire family but he had been forced by the Vampire magister to turn Jessica in reparation for killing Long Shadow. The problem with that was that Bill hadn't killed Long Shadow. Eric had.

_Ah don't know how that Godless heathen gets away with it. Ah am so sorry Ah ever brought Sookeh into Fangtasia that time. Ah don't know why Ah told her sex with Eric was unforgettable,_ he thought.

Despite the fact that nearly two years had passed since his three-month courtship of the blonde, buxom Sookie Stackhouse, Bill still ached for her. In fact, it was his incessant stalking of her that finally drove his sister-lover, Judith, to leave him. It had finally come to a head a month earlier when Judith questioned Bill on his frequent disappearances from the house.

"Bill, where were you?"

"Ah was taking a constitutional."

"Where?"

"Ah was walking around mah property."

"What else were you doing? Why are you carrying binoculars?"

"Ah was bird-watching."

"What birds?"

"There's an owl in the woods."

"Nope."

"Some bats."

"Bullshit."

"Judith! In mah time, young ladies did not use unladylike language."

"That's it. I'm out of here."

With that, Judith packed her belongings and left. Bill was brought out of his recollection of Judith's departure by the arrival of his family.

"You bellowed, Bill?" The perpetually teen-age Jessica had been in her room getting ready for a date. Her boyfriend Hoyt was due to arrive shortly as they were going to a drive-in.

Another voice sounded in the darkness.

"What's the matter with you, Grandpappy? You die and you think that gives you the right to just forget your manners? I was on the phone with Portia when I heard your screeching and had to drop everything to come see what got your panties in a bunch."

Bill sighed. Sometimes he really wished he didn't have a family.

"Ah was playing Wii golf and was disturbed by a noise. Ah dropped mah joystick and now it's broken. Were either of you responsible for the noise?"

Jessica, irritated, groused.

"NO! I didn't make your damn noise, but I should have! You're always playing Wii golf! Go do something else for a change. I can't stand you!"

Bill sighed unnecessarily.

_Mah life is so unfair. Eric killed Long Shadow. Jessicah should his child. She should be at Fangtasia making him miserable instead of here making me miserable._

"Well," Andy looked between Bill and Jessica. He switched into detective mode since that is exactly what he was prior to his turning. "What kind of noise was it?"

**CHHH- CHHH- CHHH -CHHH- CHHH- CHHH!**

"That noise!" Bill nodded his head triumphantly at his two progeny.

"Okay," Andy grunted. "So there really was a noise. Sounded like it's coming from the cemetery. Let's go check it out."

"Not me," Jessica shook her head. "Hoyt's coming over. I'm not gonna chase down Bill's noise. I'm glad his stupid game is broken."

Andy looked at Jessica and shook his head.

"I AM!" With that Jessica stomped back up to her room.

Sighing, Andy turned to Bill.

"Okay, Bill," Andy nodded. "C'mon. I'll go with you to investigate the noise."

"Thank you, Andy."

"Yeah. I can see you're gonna be all pissy until we do something, so let's go."

Startled, Bill looked at Andy.

"Pissy?" he laughed. "Ah don't get pissy."

"Yeah, yeah," Andy replied dismissively. "You can tell me all about it while we walk over to the cemetery."

With that the two kinsmen wandered out to Sweet Home Cemetery.

"Funny, Ah thought this cemetery was called Tall Pines," Bill observed.

Andy grunted.

"Boy, you can find something to complain about with just about anything, can't you?"

Stricken, Bill's mouth fell open in shock.

"Ah'm not complaining," he pouted. "Ah'm just making an observation."

"Uh-huh," Andy replied.

**CHHH- CHHH- CHHH -CHHH- CHHH- CHHH!**

"Hear that? There it is again!"

"Yeah, I hear that. I think it's coming from past the cemetery. Sookie Stackhouse's place."

"Oh."

The two kept their pace until they were yards away from Sookie's house.

"What the heck?"

From where they stood, they could see outdoor halogen lights had been set up. Sookie's front yard had been turned into a giant workstation. A wooden scaffolding as well as several ladders encircled what appeared to be the beginnings of a frame-up of a ship.

"Ah don't believe mah eyes."

**CHHH- CHHH- CHHH -CHHH- CHHH- CHHH!**

"Well, here's your noise, Grandpappy. Sookie's building a boat. I'm heading back. Me and Jason Stackhouse are going bowling."

"Wait!" Bill turned his dejected face to Andy. "You're leaving me?"

Taking an imaginary breath, Andy looked skyward before responding.

"Bill, you wanted someone to check out the noise with you. There's the noise," Andy shook his head. "What're you? Like 170 or something? Gotta grow up sometime. You got a problem with the noise? Go talk to her and let her know." Andy paused. "I'll catch ya back at the house."

With that Andy turned and made his way back to the Compton house.

Bill, meanwhile, took a few steps closer to Sookie's house.

**CHHH- CHHH- CHHH -CHHH- CHHH- CHHH!**

_Ah hate that noise!_ he thought.

Rounding his way around the ship, Bill walked over to the front. Annoyed at what he found there, he cleared his throat to gain the attention of the shipbuilder.

"Hello, Bill. What brings you here this balmy summer evening?"

_Ah hate him with his perfect teeth and poofy highlighted hair_. _And the way he's always so smug and know-it-ally_, thought Bill.

"Hello, Eric," Bill stood over Eric with his hands on his hips. "Ah was playing Wii golf at mah home but all your noisy power tools disturbed mah concentration."

Eric Northman, the Vampire Sheriff of Louisiana's Area Five, looked up from where he reclined on his workbench. His black t-shirt clad deltoids and biceps were extended above his head where he held a power-sander poised over the hull of his longship.

"Sorry to hear that Bill. Better luck next time."

Irate, Bill huffed and stomped a khaki panted leg.

"What are you doing, Eric? Where is Sookeh?"

Wincing, Eric closed his eyes.

"Bill, I've told you that's not how her name is pronounced. It's Sookie, not Sookeh. It's like the word 'cookie.' You know that word, right Bill?"

"Ah know the word cookeh, Eric."

Eric, shaking his head, shut his eyes momentarily. Upon opening them, he stared at Bill.

"Still here?"

"Well, Ah was in the middle of talking to you."

"Yes, Bill. I remember. You have a problem with your toy?"

"Ah was playing Wii and the noise from your power tools startled me—"

"Yes, I can see how such a noise would be frightening to a 170 year old vampire."

_Condescending jackass_, thought Bill.

"Ah wasn't frightened," Bill intoned. "Ah was startled. There's a difference."

"Bill, cut to the chase. What do you want?"

"You owe me a new Wii joystick."

"Fine. I'll call Pam and she'll take care of it."

"Thank you," Bill started to walk away but paused. Turning back around, he spoke again. "Eric, what are you doing?"

"I'm building a longship."

"What? Why?"

"Billy, you really have no imagination, do you?" Eric sat up. "I am building a modified longship so Sookie and I may enjoy the seas together."

Bill frowned. Although an adamant environmentalist and recycler, Bill was a farmer. He understood love of the land far more than he did love of the sea.

"Ah don't understand. What will you do on the ocean?"

Eric rolled his eyes.

"We will fish, watch the waves, enjoy the moonlight, and have passionate primal sex," Eric nodded while Bill's face froze in horror. "Of course, during the day, Sookie can sunbathe as well. I plan on teaching her to be an excellent sailor."

Still recovering from the thought of the disgusting Swede pillaging his sweet Sookie on the high seas, Bill could only stare, agape, at the Viking. Finally, finding his voice again, he posed his next question to Eric.

"Sookeh wants this? She wants you to build her a boat?"

"Well, she is not against it."

"Where is she now?"

"She is actually not here. She is with Amelia in New Orleans."

"Oh." Bill, pursing his lips tightly, glared at Eric.

"Sookeh doesn't know you're building her a boat, does she? She doesn't know you're even here, does she? Messing up her property and making all this noise, does she?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, Bill, no," Eric nodded. "Since she is away, it seemed an opportune time to do my woodworking project as I knew I would not disturb her. There is a nighttime noise ordinance in Shreveport, which prevents me from doing the construction there. Here, however, with the cemetery next door and no neighbors of note—"

Bill grumbled.

"As I was saying, no neighbors of note, I felt that there was nothing impinging on my ability to complete my longship."

"Ah am a neighbor of note," Bill glowered at Eric.

"Keep telling yourself that."

oooOOOooo

The next night Bill, upon checking his mail, found that he had received a package from Fangtasia. Opening it up, he read the card.

_**Bill-**_

_**Eric said we owed you a toy. Enclosed is a gift card for Toys R Us. It is for $500. I trust it will be adequate.**_

_**Pam**_

_That snooty brown-noser! Ah cahn't stand her!_ he thought.

With that final thought, Bill slammed his door shut behind him and got in his car to go to Toys R Us. He missed his Wii and wanted to replace his joystick immediately.

Driving to the Shreveport shopping center, Bill popped a Kenny G CD into the CD-player he had plugged into the Cadillac's lighter outlet.

_Ah love Kenny G. G is for genius_, he laughed amused at his own wit.

An hour later, Bill was leaving the toy store with a bag full of Wii joysticks.

_Ah may as well spend all the money so Eric can't ask me for the card bac_k, he thought.

As Bill made his way back to his car, his progress was impeded when something grabbed his leg. Looking down he saw a decrepit human lying on the concrete looking up at him.

"Hey, there," the man spoke with a Scottish accent. "Have you got some spare change? I'm a little low." Suddenly the man burst out laughing. "Get it? Low. I'm lying on the ground!" The man erupted into peels of laughter.

Bill, perplexed, looked at the man.

"Sir, unhand mah leg."

"Sorry. What?"

"Unhand mah leg."

"I'm sorry," the man nodded. "I'm trying to meet you half-way—really I am. I'm just not getting the 'unhand mah leg' bit. I mean your leg is your leg. Your hand is your hand. What yer mum's got to do with anything, I haven't a clue."

Bill, frustrated, finally leaned down and pushed the man's hand off his leg.

"Oh! Cheeky monkey!" the man's face broke out into a big grin. "I get it now! You wanted me to let go of your leg! Well, you know, you should've just said so!"

"Sir, Ah was telling you to unhand mah leg. What did you think Ah was telling you to do?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know!" exclaimed the man as he pointed up at Bill.

Bill, shaking his head, looked down at the man.

"Are you without a home? Are you a forgotten man?"

The man looked up at the vampire and then turned his gaze to the parking lot.

"I'm sorry. Did you say something? I forgot." The man laughed at his own corniness.

Bill shook his head.

Just then several Home Depot customers walked past Bill and his new friend on their way to their vehicle. They pushed a large dolly filled with wood.

"I say, with that much wood a person could build a boat," the Scottish man observed.

Startled, Bill's head swung around to the Scotsman.

"Do you know anything about building boats?"

"Do I know anything about building boats? Show me a Scotsman who doesn't know anything about building boats and I'll show you an Irishman!" That set the man off on a new round laughter.

Bill, meanwhile, was getting an idea. He could build a boat just as well as Eric could. Especially if he had an authentic Scotsman boatbuilder helping him. That was sure to impress Sookie.

Introducing himself, Bill pulled his new friend up from the ground and led him into the Home Depot. Barreling quickly to the lumber aisle, Bill excitedly looked around at the different woods. Spying the oak, he nodded his head appreciatively.

"There. Oak."

The Scotsman, whose name was Greg Ferguson, shook his head.

"Uh-huh-huh-huh. Sorry. You can't use oak. You need a wood that will cure quickly. Just because you've got eternity doesn't mean you want to spend it waiting for lumber to cure."

Bill frowned at Greg.

"Ah want it to be oak. There is something solid and steady and trustworthy about oak."

"I'm telling you no, Bill," Greg rolled his eyes at the Home Depot sales clerk. "Can't take him anywhere," he said with a wink.

The clerk skirted away quickly.

"Ah think Ah know more than you do, Greg," Bill grinned.

"Oh, you pulling the age thing on me, already?" Greg huffed. "Fine. You'll see."

oooOOOooo

Many days later…

Having bought the oak to construct his boat—against Greg Ferguson's advice— the boatbuilder and the drunken Scotsman had been forced to play a waiting game. It had been an uneasy one. A hardwood like oak required a lot of steaming to cure it. Bill had rigged the boiler and, using some PVC piping, had turned his living room into a giant sauna. Jessica and Andy, disgusted after the first night, had moved out.

"I told you not to get oak."

"Yes, well Ah thought you were just being difficult."

"Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

"Ah know you like to fight with me."

"No I don't!" Greg's tone was incredulous. "What kind of self-important dolt thinks people don't have anything better to do than to fight with them?"

"See?" Bill nodded knowingly, his lips curled in a wry smile.

"You need help, Bill," Greg pointed a finger at his vamp friend. "Lots of it. Utterly delusional is what you are. And you're a stubborn vamp who doesn't know how to listen to people when they're trying to give good advice."

"The instructions say—" Bill started to support his assertion.

"Do the instructions say anything about building a boat in your living room?"

"Of course, not," Bill twittered.

"Well, maybe it's a little late for you to be worrying about the instructions then."

So the two were left waiting and waiting and waiting while the oak was being steamed. They needed the wood to soften to a point where, thus cured, the flexible planks could be bent and the two could begin to frame out the boat.

Finally, one day, Bill, leafing through his hard copy of **Boatbuilding: A Complete Handbook of Wooden Boat Construction, **looked over at the Scotsman and, pleased, nodded.

"I don't like the looks of that smile," Greg mumbled to himself.

"Ah think we are ready to start bending the wood into the proper shape."

"Uh-huh-huh-huh," Greg looked at Bill. "I don't think so, mate. The wood's still too hard. It'll splinter right up and explode like a grenade," Greg shook his head. "You vamps got a problem with wood, don't you?"

Bill dismissed the Scotsman's warning with a wave of his hand.

"Ah know what Ah'm doing. This wood is cured." With that assertion, Bill put down his book and grabbed a piece of lumber.

"Bill, I really don't think so…"

"Nonsense, Greg," Bill smiled. "Look, all Ah've got to do is just bend it a bit…"

"Bill! Don't do that!"

But it was too late.

Using his superior-to-humans-but-inferior-to-nearly-all-other-vamps-strength, Bill attempted to bend the still uncured oak.

As Greg had predicted, the still hard hardwood exploded. With the powerful explosion—heating the wood had caused a buildup of energy— hundreds of splinters—some rather sizable shards—shot out from the blast.

Bill, holding the lumber, didn't stand a chance as dozens of wood shards, large and small, embedded themselves into his turquoise blue Izod polo shirt.

Greg Ferguson dove for cover behind a gigantic sock monkey that sat in a corner of the living room. Peeking over the monkey to assess the damage, Greg saw a particularly large wooden shard had shot into Bill's chest. Dozens of toothpick-sized splinters dotted his body. Horrified, Greg watched his friend disintegrate into a small pile of dust. Once all that remained were remains, Greg lowered his head to pay homage to his fallen friend.

Greg pondered the situation as he glanced around the house.

"I guess I can take the car. The vamp's not going to need it anymore."

oooOOOooo

"Oh my god!" Sookie Stackhouse gasped as she drove her car to the front of her house. Parking the car, she jumped out and was not surprised to see her vampire waiting for her.

"No, Sookie," Eric stood leaning on the longship, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his arms crossed as well. "But if you wish to call me that," he grinned, "I wouldn't object."

"I can't believe you did this! I thought you were joking! You actually built a boat!"

"Yes."

"It's beautiful, Eric." It was, too. Sookie didn't know much about boats, but she could tell the wood was perfectly cut and carved. Intricate woodcarvings decorated the stempost and the sternpost.

"Yes," Eric's eyes were focused on Sookie while she investigated the boat. "Beautiful," he agreed.

Catching something in her boyfriend's tone, Sookie glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Want to give me a tour of the inside?"

"I think I'd like to give you more than that, lover."

Bounding over to him, Sookie threw her arms around him.

"Well, what're you waiting for, then?"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: I really thought after TBS3 ended, so would the desire for Bill to die. I haven't been that wrong since I said "I do." LMFAO. **

**BTW, I know nothing about golf, curing wood, or boat building. I do know about noise ordinances and parking lots. **

**CREDIT/PROPS****: **

**Thanks to SGT Grau-Fay and his troop for our latest installment. Yes, even they think the emo jackass has to go. **

**NEXT UP: Uh-oh. JAWS! **


	13. The Savate Lesson

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby is Alan Ball's saving grace. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

—

**WARNING: Sookehverse references galore. **

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

At the sound of the doorbell, Bill Compton looked up from his computer.

After waiting a few seconds, he heard the bell sound a second time. With that, he came to the conclusion that no one else was either ready or willing to answer the door. Sighing loudly—yet pointlessly—in frustration, he stood up.

_Ah wonder where everyone disappeared to?_ he thought.

Deeply engrossed in what he'd been doing—filling out a job application to be a teacher's aide for a 3rd grade class—the 170-year-old vampire was more than a little peeved at being disturbed.

_Ah hope this isn't someone calling on me. Ah was almost done with mah application._

Standing, he was unhappy to notice a tiny smudge on his creased Dockers.

"Oh, look at this," Bill muttered to himself as he licked a thumb and then proceeded to wipe at the offending stain. "Ah will have to write a letter to Sears that these slacks are _not_ stain-resistant. Ah hate when things do not live up to their promise. Like that Alan Ball show on HBO. Ah don't understand what the hell is happening on that show!"

Arriving at the front door, Bill, upon opening it, was startled to find a takeout deliveryman.

_Delivery-shifter_, he thought wryly.

"Ah'm sorry but you must have the wrong address. Only vampires live here. We only consume blood and blood products."

The boy, Timmy, pulled the earplugs out of his ears and nodded.

"Yeah, dead dude," he replied. "I figured as much when you said 'vampires.' This is the right place, though. Old Jessie Compton's place."

"Oh?" _Maybe Jessicah's boyfriend Hoyt is here_, Bill thought. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he commented, "What is it? It smells disgusting."

"Hot wings, dead dude." Looking at the order ticket, Timmy's next words solved the mystery. "Order's for an Andy."

Bill rolled his eyes in frustration. Andy was his great great grandson and also his vamp grandchild. Only recently turned, Andy was still not acclimated to not needing food for sustenance. He continued to miss the smell of certain foods, disgusting chicken wings being one of them.

"How much is it?" asked Bill.

_Ah will have to get Andy to pay me back later_, he thought.

"Total's $8.50."

"Here's a $10. Could Ah get $1 back?"

Timmy stared at Bill, a look of disgust on his face.

Bill, oblivious, was examining the order slip to confirm the accuracy of the order.

"Is this from Merlotte's? Ah didn't know Merlotte's delivered."

"New thing. Since Sam is always yelling and shooting at people, we had to change the business model."

Bill nodded. Wistfully, he recalled the time he and Sam went hunting together in Arkansas. It had been a delightful bonding time. He missed his dear friend but things just hadn't been the same since they returned from the trip. Bill couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Please tell Sam Ah said 'hi'," Bill said with a sad smile.

"Sure, dead dude."

Suddenly they heard a woman's scream coming from the woods.

Startled, Bill was quick to react.

"_Sookeh_!" he screamed. "_Sookeh! Ah'm coming_!"

Bill pushed the box of wings back toward Timmy and started to run toward the screaming.

"Help! Bill!"

Bill stopped in his tracks. It wasn't Sookie. It was his vampire child, Jessica. Looking out toward the woods, Bill reconsidered. Hesitating, he finally made up his mind and retraced his steps back to Timmy.

"Hey, dead dude, you're not gonna help her?" Timmy looked appalled.

"She is a vampire. She will be fine."

"She's calling for help."

"She will be fine," he repeated.

Timmy kept glancing uneasily into the woods. After about a minute, the screaming stopped.

The bill settled, Timmy made his way to his car and got inside. He leaned over to the open passenger side window to share some parting thoughts with Bill.

"Vampire or not, dude, girl was calling for you to help her. Ignoring her was pretty fucking cold. _You knob_!"

With that Timmy tore out of there.

Taken aback, Bill stared at Timmy's retreating vehicle. He didn't have much time to ponder the angry shifter's words as his ears were soon filled with the tirade of an angry vampire.

"_Bill_!" Jessica was approaching from the woods. "What the heck, Bill? Didn't you hear me screaming for help?"

Observing Jessica, Bill saw her clothes were torn and bedraggled. She had deep scratches on her face and arms. Dark bruises on her arms and neck. Other than that, she appeared fine.

"You are not hurt," Bill shook his head. "But for your pride," he nodded knowingly. "And your vanity," he added.

Shocked, Jessica's eyes shot open. Unable to speak at first, finally she rediscovered her voice.

"Pride and vanity?" Jessica shook her head, incredulous. "I was attacked by a _were panther_! A really big were panther that was determined to kill me! I could've been seriously hurt! What if I wasn't able to move? What if I'm stuck outside when the sun comes up?"

"You would've healed before then."

"How am I supposed to know that?" Jessica let out a loud sigh of frustration. "Bill, you haven't taught me ANYTHING about what it's like to be a vampire! You haven't taught me how to fight! You haven't taught me how to defend myself! You're such a terrible maker!" Animated in her anger, she stomped her foot. "_I hate you!"_

With that final denouncement, Jessica stormed into the house and slammed the door in Bill's face.

oooOOOooo

The next night was a replay of the previous. Bill was sitting at his computer, working on a resume to teach history to 5th graders, when he heard the doorbell ring. Without waiting for a second ring, he stood up and walked to the front door. There, he realized Jessica had beat him to it. Seeing who stood outside, Bill's features twisted into a grimace. Pam.

"Hello Bill," Pam smiled. "Good to see you."

"Pam," Bill nodded. "To what do Ah owe this pleasure?"

"I'm here to visit with Jessica." Pam paused. "We're going to have a little girl time." Pam smirked as she walked inside the house.

"Yeah, Bill," Jessica snarled at him. "I was telling Pam what a terrible maker you are and she offered to come give me lessons. Even though my name's not _SOOKEH_!"

Bill flinched at Jessica's words.

Jessica nodded at Pam. "See? I told you. Totally obsessed."

"Yes," Pam nodded thoughtfully. "I do see. Eric won't like that."

Bill threw Pam a deadly look.

"Well, Bill," Pam made her way into Bill's living room. Jessica and Bill followed. "You seem to need to find yourself a new girlfriend." Pam, her lips twisted into a cold smile, turned to face Bill. "Tell you what: when I'm done teaching your progeny how to be a vampire, I'll teach you how to be a man."

Jessica giggled while Bill just glared at Pam.

_Ah hate her. She's just like Eric only shorter, younger and she doesn't have a penis._

oooOOOooo

Hours later, the two female vampires were finishing up a discussion on vampire limb rejuvenation. Bill, meanwhile, had long since retreated to his office. He was taking an online course to get a teaching certificate.

Suddenly he heard his name. Glancing up, he saw Pam standing in the doorway.

"Bill? Feel like making yourself useful? It's been a while."

Sneering at Pam, Bill's tone was ice.

"What do you need, Pam?"

"Well, I was going to teach your child Savate. It's a French Kickboxing style. I thought I'd prop up Confederate Sock Monkey to demonstrate on but I can't find him. Did you get rid of him?"

Bill huffed. The anatomically correct sock monkey had been a Veteran's Day gift from Eric and Pam. They had outfitted the giant six-foot sock monkey in a torn Confederate Army uniform. The enormously endowed sock monkey's 'member' was falling out of the pants. Bill had found the entire episode highly upsetting.

"Pam, you knew I wasn't going to keep that...that..._hideous doll_!"

A speculative look came over Pam's face.

"Well, come then," she nodded. "I need to demonstrate on someone and you're her maker. You should be at least a little involved. What are you? A 'deadbeat dad'?"

"Ah provide financial support to Jessicah."

"Then it's 'absentee parent.'" Leaning on the doorjamb with her arms crossed, Pam threw Bill a smug look. "Either way, Bill. Time to show her what being vampire is all about. If you're going to ignore her and not teach her, her safety remains your responsibility."

Bill, a pained look on his face, was clearly feeling undecided. Finally he replied.

"Ah am busy, Pam."

"What has you so busy?"

"Ah am taking an online course to get a teaching certificate."

Pam rolled her eyes.

"Bill, you are _vampire_! Where did you get this notion that humans would allow you near their children?"

"Sookie's friend Arlene's children like me."

"Those smelly things?"

Bill didn't answer. He just scowled at Pam.

Pam decided to try a different tack.

"Bill, aside from the responsibility you have for her, think of all the time you'll save in the long-run, with your child being self-sufficient." Pam nodded. "Or what about how it looks to others?"

With a gleam of satisfaction, Pam could see her words of reason were finally penetrating the thickheaded skull of Bill Compton.

Bill, recalling the judgmental look of the delivery shifter—who then, no doubt—reported the entire incident to Sam, winced at the memory.

"Fine." Grumpy, yet resigned, Bill rose from his desk and followed Pam out to the living room.

oooOOOooo

A short while later, Jessica and Bill were seated on Bill's worn sofa while Pam stood in the center of the living room.

"Savate, or French Boxing, was developed in the late 1700's. French sailors picked up kicking techniques from Asian cultures while sailing the Indian Ocean and South China seas."

Pam paused while Jessica and Bill absorbed the information.

"Savate uses both the hands and feet as weapons and contains elements of western boxing, grappling and graceful kicking techniques," Pam paused. "Jessica," the girl met Pam's eyes, "you would be a savateus since you're a woman." Turning to Bill, Pam snickered. "Bill, I suppose you would be a savateur," she said with a shrug.

"Now, Savate takes its name from the French word for old boot because it's meant to be practiced with shoes on. In fact, practitioners are supposed to wear heavy footwear." Pam looked down at her feet. "I'm wearing a pair of my favorite pumps."

Bill's eyes shot down to the bottom of Pam's designer slacks to her shoes.

"Pam, are those heels wood? Are you going to practice on me while wearing wooden heels?"

Pam, unmoved, stared at Bill.

"Bill, are you proving me wrong on your being a savateur already?"

"Pam, I mean it," Bill stood up and lurched over to Pam. "If you're going to be kicking at me with shoes on, isn't it a little dangerous for you to be doing it with—what are those? Five inch stilettos?"

Pam rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Bill, we're doing this to show Jessica how it's done. It's not my intention to actually hurt you," she nodded. "Besides, you're within your right to defend yourself, you know," she said. "Kick back, Bill. What does Eric say about you? Oh, yes. 'Man up, my friend.'" Pam smirked.

Bill's eyes squinted angrily as he shot daggers at Pam.

"Fine," he spat out as he positioned himself next to Pam.

Pam nodded, a satisfied smile on her face.

"Okay, let's start with showing Jessica a few simple moves. There are three types of punches. The jab. The cross. And the hook." Without actually making contact with Bill, Pam demonstrated each punch.

Jessica watched, riveted. "Are there kicks?"

"Yes," Pam nodded. "There are four types of kicks. The fouette- a whip kick. The chasse- a piston-action kick. The revers in which the sole of the shoe makes contact with your opponent. The coup de pied bas is a low, sweeping kick." Pam turned to Bill. "Bill, let's demonstrate a couple of the kicks."

"Fine."

Pam motioned for Bill to move into position. Getting into her own stance, she directed her words to Jessica.

"What you want to do his catch your enemy off-guard with a strike to the head. I personally like to use a quick jab." Pam jabbed Bill in the face.

"Hey—" Bill complained as he rubbed his cheek.

"Bill, I said you could defend yourself. Are you a savateur or a savateus?"

"Ah hate you. You know that?"

Pam smiled. "Good. Maybe you'll actually present a challenge." Refocusing her attention, she called out to Jessica. "Now that punch didn't travel far, so I didn't have time to build force."

"Oh, oh," Jessica excitedly clapped her hands. "I know this! You mean like force equals mass times velocity?"

"Exactly." Pam nodded her head in approval. "Now there is an established move. It is called the Directe Fouette Directe. It calls for two jabs, then a whip kick, then a cross. You cock your arms like a pistol and aim the hardest bones in your hand—your knuckles—into your opponent's face." Pam demonstrated these moves on Bill in slow motion, without actually hitting him. "With the whip kick, you drive the tip of your toe into your opponent's midsection. Then you hit him with a cross punch to the temple. It's the weakest part of the skull and you're hitting it with thousands of pounds of force. Got it?"

Jessica, mesmerized, nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

"Good," Pam nodded. "Let's do it for real, so you can see how it works. You ready, Bill?"

"Yeah, Ah'm ready."

Pam and Bill resumed their combat stance positions. Upon Pam nodding her head to indicate their start, she jabbed Bill in the face.

With a loud cry of "Ouch!" Bill hunched forward, protectively covering his face with both hands.

Pam, moving quickly but with human speed, brought her left leg up, unleashing her whip kick on him.

Unfortunately, since Bill was hunched over nursing his bruised face, the kick didn't meet his intersection. Instead it met his chest.

Startled, Bill panicked and, grabbing Pam's foot, pushed it to his left. With the force of the push—and his own resulting stumble forward—it wasn't the tip of Pam's foot that made contact with Bill's chest, but her heel.

Her five inch wooden stiletto heel.

Her wooden stiletto heel—which not only made contact with Bill's chest but actually speared his chest.

"Ow! Oh no!" Bill, a horrified look on his face, looked down to realize Pam's heel was lodged in his chest. "Pam, you…you…_skewered_ me!"

Pam, a reflective look on her face, stood, balanced on one foot, watching Bill. She shook her left foot free from her shoe.

"Sorry Bill. It was an accident. You shouldn't have jerked forward and you shouldn't have pushed my foot like that."

"Ah know that now, Pam." With these words Bill collapsed on to the floor of his living room. Lying there, he asked the only thing he could think to inquire about. "What happened to the soles?"

Pam shrugged. "I guess they're all worn from my running back and forth between Shreveport and Bon Temps to keep an eye on Trouble Magnet."

Wordlessly Bill nodded.

Pam and Jessica stood over the former long-time Seattle resident, watching silently as the vampire magic left his body.

The metamorphosis occurred quickly. Within seconds, Bill's corporal remains were all but gone, aside from a pile of black dust. Partially covering the dust pile was Bill's final outfit: a pair of chinos from the JC Penney catalogue and an REO Speedwagon concert t-shirt. Sitting atop Kevin Cronin's face was Pam's blood saturated Nico leather stiletto heel from Brian Atwood.

Picking up her shoe, Pam frowned. "Look at this. It's filthy. Bill owes me a pair of pumps." Glancing up, Pam saw Jessica was watching her.

"Pam?"

"Yes?"

"Do I get the database money now?"

"Yes," Pam nodded. "You need to take care of Andy, but the money's yours. You have plans?"

"Shoe-shopping?"

After a slight pause, Pam replied.

"I like you, Jessica. You're my kind of girl," Pam said with a wink. "Now, can I borrow a pair of pumps?"

"Yeah, of course," Jessica nodded. "Be right back."

Pam grabbed her cell from her pocket, hit a key, and then waited.

"I am here. This better be good, Pam."

Pam rolled her eyes.

"Eric, I was demonstrating Savate to Jessica—"

"Were you wearing heels, Pam?"

"Yes," she replied, a slight sullen quality to her voice.

"After last time?" Eric paused. "Well, is Jessica all right?"

"Oh, she's fine, Eric. It's Bill."

"I see. Definitely dead?"

"Yes."

Over the line, Pam could hear Sookie's voice.

"_Eric, what's Pam saying? Who's definitely dead?" _

"Bill has met with an unfortunate accident."

"_Oh, no! Really?"_

"Yes."

"_Too bad! Do you have to go?"_

"No, my lover."

"_Good."_

Eric turned his attention back to his child.

"Pam, thank you…for letting me know."

"Of course, Eric.

Click.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**A/N: Don't even think it. It was totally an accident. Gosh, we still doing this? Gee whiz, nothing formulaic here. LMFAO (um, at myself because it _is_ formulaic). OMG! It just occurred to me I've never thanked Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Thanks, guys. **

**BTW, I know nothing about Savate or Brian Atwood pumps. **

**CREDIT/PROPS****: **

**Thanks to Tiffany and Ian for help with Savate. Thanks to Mystic-Notions for the idea of Death by Pam Pumps. Thanks to Hathor321 for the inspired term "knob." **

**NEXT UP: Jaws. **


	14. Death by Vampwich

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. "Greg" Ferguson belongs to himself, but I wouldn't mind play dates. **

—

**WARNING: Sookehverse references. **

**WARNING: Slash! JK. Vampwich! Even I think we're a little OOC here, but you know what they say? "All's fair when searching for a good laugh…" **

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Twenty-eight year old Sookie Stackhouse and her 1000-year-old vampire beau, Eric Northman, walked hand in hand through the cemetery that separated Sookie's property from that of her neighbor, Bill Compton. The couple was on their way to Bill's for a visit. At least that's how Sookie kept referring to it: a visit. It was, unfortunately, much more than that. She wasn't certain she wanted to go through with what they had planned. Well, actually she was 100% certain she _didn't_ want to go through with what they had planned. Furrowing her brow, Sookie glanced at her boyfriend.

"Eric, I don't know about this..."

"Lover, need I remind you? You said you'd do anything to assure that Bill would leave you alone. That he would leave _us_ alone."

"Yeah..." her voice fell off. "But this? How on earth did you get me to agree to this?"

Eric closed his eyes, remembering. They had been in the throws of passion. Sookie lay on her bed, her legs splayed before him. Diligently pleasuring Sookie with his hands and tongue, he happened to glance up and see two white spots in the window.

It was Bill Compton peering through the window.

Frustrated beyond reason, Eric halted his ministrations.

Sookie, startled by the ceasing of Eric's attentions, quickly became as frustrated—possibly even more so—than he.

"Eric!" she groaned. "What the hell?"

Eric leaning over her, smiled grimly. "We have a problem," he said simply.

"No, no, no!" she replied, with irritation. "WE don't have a problem! I! I have a problem! My boyfriend's a big, _old_ tease!" She sighed. "And yeah, that was a dig at your age, Mr. Millennia!"

"No, Sookie." Raising an eyebrow, he jerked his head towards the window. "We have a problem," he repeated.

"Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea! Are you telling me Bill's outside watching us? Now?"

Eric raising his eyebrows slightly, nodded his head in confirmation.

"DAMMIT!" She let her frustrations echo. "Why can't he leave us alone?"

"Lover—"

"No, Eric," she sighed. "I don't want you to kill him. Not yet, anyway. I wish there was something we could do to make him leave us alone." Closing her eyes, she was silent for a few moments. "Is he still there?"

Eric glanced at the window. "Yes."

"Does it look like he's doing that thing? You know? With his hand?"

Eric looked up again. The face of the vampire out the window had a look of utter ecstasy. Eric sniffed. It did seem that Compton had his member out and was pleasuring himself.

"Yes..."

"Argh!" Sookie howled out of frustration. "I can't believe what a perve he's become! I wish Judith hadn't left. He was much better when she was here."

"Agreed, lover."

"Well, what're we gonna do, Eric? It can't go on like this! I'm losing my mind! Every time I have a witch in to ward the house, he hires another witch to undo it. He's making me crazy! Not to mention all the money I'm wasting!"

"Well, how much do you want this to stop?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Would you be willing to do something a little out of character?"

Sookie's squinted at him. "Out of character? Out of whose character? My character? Or your character?"

Eric grinned at her. "Both, actually."

Sookie sighed. "I'm sure I'm going to regret this, but tell me your idea."

So Eric told Sookie his idea—rather it had been Pam's idea. At first appalled by the idea, Sookie had gradually come around to the vampires' way of thinking.

_I can't believe I'm thinking like vampires now_, she thought.

Pam's idea—a vampire bastardization of a Dr. Phil episode—was that Bill had never felt closure about how their relationship ended. So the idea was that Sookie—by sleeping with Bill one last time—would provide Bill with the closure he so desperately needed so that he could move on.

Implementation of the "solution" was the reason Eric and Sookie now stood before Bill's front door waiting for him to answer the doorbell.

When Bill finally answered the door, Sookie was more than a little shocked to see him wearing plaid sleep pants and a red smoking jacket with a big embroidered dragon. She rolled her eyes.

"Hello Sookeh," Bill greeted his former girlfriend with a warm smile before his tone turned chilly. "Eric."

"Hi Bill," Sookie responded with a half smile.

"Bill," nodded Eric.

"Please come in." With that Bill moved to the side allowing them both entry into his home.

"Are Jessica and Andy home?" asked Sookie.

"No," Bill shook his head. "Ah know how modest you are. Ah made sure they were out."

"Good," replied Eric.

"Thank God!" Sookie responded.

"We gonna go upstairs?" asked Sookie.

"Yes," nodded Bill. "Ah recently redecorated mah bedroom, Sookeh. Ah have new things Ah would like to show you."

"Great, Bill," Sookie replied, a too-wide smile on her face.

"Now Bill, before we begin," Eric wanted to lay down the law; this ridiculous situation had to stop. "I need to reiterate that I'm ONLY going to allow this because you are agreeing—from now on—to cease your constant stalking of Sookie and to learn how to say her name correctly."

Bill made a face. "Ah know how to say her name correctly!" Indignant, his tone was wounded.

"No you don't, Bill," Sookie jumped in.

Bill huffed. "Fine, Ah'll go to the speech therapist."

"And no more stalking, Bill."

"Yes," he sighed. "Ah'll stop my nightly constitutionals through the cemetery."

"Bill, if that's all you were doing, I wouldn't care!" Sookie just couldn't stand that Bill was in such denial over his behavior. "I hate looking up during sex to see you watching us through the window!"

"Maybe, Ah lose track and walk a little too close to your home sometimes."

"You drop your pants and are all nasty with yourself, Bill! You gotta stop it!"

Bill sighed. "Yes. Ah'll stop my nightly constitutionals through the cemetery," he repeated.

Sookie rolled her eyes again. "Okay, let's get this over and done with." Shaking her head, her voice sounded incredulous. "I still can't believe this is the best "plan" you could come up with, Eric."

"You'll thank me later, lover." Eric glanced at Bill, letting his eyes roll over the younger vamp, from head to foot. "Believe me," he repeated blandly, "_you will thank me later_."

Sookie furrowed her brow again. "Oh, yeah, Mr. High-and-Mighty?"

"Hmmm, and Sexy, don't forget."

Sookie glared silently at her boyfriend.

"Eric," Bill suspected he had caught a nuance in the Viking's tone; he thought Eric was insulting him. "What you said before about Sookeh thanking you later. Were you casting aspersions on mah sexual prowess?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes," Eric replied simply.

"Ah ha! Ah thought so!" Bill said heatedly. "You can't fool me!"

Eric grinned placidly at Bill. "I'm not denying it, Bill."

"Enough! C'mon, c'mon!" said Sookie with some impatience. "I have _never_ wanted to get something over and done with so badly _in my life_! I'm heading upstairs. Whoever wants to come, come on!"

"I love it when you're aggressive, lover," Eric winked at his girlfriend. This only infuriated her further. Flipping him off, she turned and fled up the stairs.

"Eric, it's like sex is the only thing you know," Bill said with disdain.

Eric grinned at Bill's comment.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Bill. I guess it stands to reason you would be an expert on my sexual technique, given the number of times you've watched me fuck Sookie through her bedroom window. I suppose you could even produce a National Geographic special on my sexual skills."

Disgusted, Bill sneered, "You're vile." He then turned to follow Sookie up the stairs.

Eric laughed as he watched the younger vampire climb the staircase.

oooOOOooo

Up in Bill's bedroom, the Civil War vet was anxiously showing Sookie his new acquisitions.

"Sookeh, look at this," directed Bill.

Sookie, glancing up at what Bill wanted her to look at, frowned. "Is that creepy, rusty thing hanging above your bed a scythe, Bill?"

"Yes, Sookeh, it is," Bill nodded proudly. "The scythe was an honest tool for honest people to work the land. It was a tool that helped make this country great," Bill smiled reverently looking at his scythe.

"Where'd you find it?"

"eBay. It was only $3,000," he replied happily. "It's an antique that dates back to mah grandfather's day."

Sookie's eyes widened in shock at hearing the amount Bill spent on the disgustingly filthy rusted farming tool he had elaborately hung over his bed. She had something like it in her shed. She would have happily sold it to him for $10.

"It must be quite heavy, Bill," Eric had joined them and was now examining the farmer's object d'art with curiosity.

"Yes, it is."

"How have you secured it to the wall?"

"Well, you now how it is with anything. The art gallery in Shreveport gave me a rather exorbitant estimate on the cost of mounting it, so I decided it would be a good opportunity to bond with my great great grandson, Andy. We did it ourselves after visiting the Home Depot."

Eric peered at the hanging tool. "Are you certain it is secured?" He glanced at Bill. "Terrible pity to have an unfortunate accident."

"Eric," Sookie said with irritation, "stop making cryptic comments that sound menacing. You know you don't give a crap about Bill's stupid scythe! C'mon! I seriously wanna get this show on the road!"

"Yes, my lover who is so impatient to have another man touch her—"

"Foof! Like it wasn't your damn idea, Eric!"

"Well, Sookeh," Bill wandered over to his former lover and ran a cold finger along the exposed flesh of her arm.

"Ah have missed you..."

"Thank you, Bill," she sighed. "That's sweet of you to say."

"Ah'd like to give you great pleasure—"

"On what will be our last time together—_ever_—because this will give you your closure and then you're gonna stop coming on to my property and spying on me. Right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Bill," interrupted Eric. "Just so that we're clear; I am allowing Sookie to have sex with you to end your infernal stalking tendencies. I have been lenient with you but this will cease my leniency. If you do not stick to our agreement after I allow you to taste the pleasures of my wife, I will end you. Is this understood?"

"Yes."

"And do not think that this is giving you an opportunity to win Sookie back. That is not going to happen."

Bill threw Eric a look of consternation.

"That is not going to happen," Eric repeated.

"Yes, Eric."

Sookie started to strip herself of her clothes while Bill went to his dresser. He inserted a Barry White CD into his Wave radio. Sookie's eyes opened wide.

"Bill, something other than chanting monks?"

"Sookeh, Ah have dreamed of this moment. Ah have wanted a second chance with you—"

His words stopped at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"It is not a second chance, Bill," corrected Eric.

"Oh, yes," nodded Bill. "Of course." Bill glared at Eric. "Eric, are you going to stand there and watch us the entire time?"

"Oh, what's the matter, Bill? Can dish it out, but you can't take it?" Eric grinned at Bill and left his spot by the window to sit on a chair positioned across from Bill's bed. "As a matter of fact, I'm not going to watch you."

"Good," Bill nodded.

"I am participating."

"_What_?"

"Bill, did you really think I would leave you with Sookie unchaperoned?"

"While we're laying together? Yes!"

Eric smiled wryly. "Oh? Well, sorry," he shrugged. "Besides, I thought I might be able to give you pointers."

"What?"

"You heard me. I don't want Sookie to be traumatized by the experience, as I require her enthusiasm for sex to continue unabated for my own enjoyment."

"Hey," injected an irritated Sookie, "I'm right here! No need to talk about me!"

"Sorry, my lover."

"Wait a minute," incensed, Bill was visibly unhappy with the situation. "Ah don't understand. What exactly are you going to do? You said Ah would get my chance to pleasure Sookeh?"

"And so you shall. I will merely stand nearby and observe and offer my suggestions."

"Are you going to touch her?"

"Only if I think she needs it."

"Are you going to touch me?"

Eric, bemused, looked at Bill. "Only if you ask nicely."

Bill made a face. "Ah don't want you touching me."

Eric shrugged. "Your loss, Bill. I happen to be very skilled."

"All right." Sookie, impatient, interrupted once more. "I can't believe how many times I have to remind you all that I'm in the room. I should just let you two go at on your own."

Shedding the remnants of her clothes, Sookie, now nude, climbed into Bill's big bed. "Let's go already!"

Bill walked over to his closet while Eric watched from the chair. Sookie, meanwhile, followed him with her eyes as well. Reaching up to the shelf, Bill grabbed a box. Sookie could see an **As Seen on TV** logo on the side of the box. **Blookstone Thera Spa Turbo Massage Wand**.

"Bill, what the heck is that?" asked Sookie.

"It is an aid to help me in pleasuring you."

"Oh yeah? **As Seen on TV**? Is it any good? Usually the stuff I buy off television is crap."

"This was quite a deal, Sookeh," Bill said, a hint of condescension in his voice. "Brookstone is a well-known brand." Sookie's face became still, Eric could tell she was furious. He stifled a chuckle.

"But, Bill," she replied heatedly, "it's not Brookstone! It's Blookstone. Look at it! It's some made in China knock-off!"

"What?" Bill looked down at the box and noticed for the first time it did, in fact, say Blookstone, not Brookstone as he'd originally thought. "Why that unscrupulous TV huckster! Ah ordered that because mah friend, Greg Ferguson—do you remember the homeless Scotsman Ah had living with me? Well, he moved to Los Angeles and is now hosting a late night talk show on CBS. He advertises on his show this massaging health aid. Ah emailed him asking if it was known to give a woman pleasure. He said it was known to give a woman as much pleasure as he was! But then he told me he could get one for me at a discount, and so Ah bought it directly from him."

"Well, it's not a Brookstone. Are you sure it'll work?"

"Ah am going to call Greg Ferguson and ask him."

"NOW?" mouthed Sookie, glancing at Eric. Eric, smiling, just shook his head.

Bill pulled his cell phone from his pocket and put a call into his friend. The call was answered after the first ring.

_Its a great day for America everybody._

"Hi, Greg. It's Bill Compton."

_Who?_

"Bill Compton. In Louisiana. You lived with me for a while."

_I was a homeless. I lived with a lot of random people. Can you be a bit more specific?_

"Ah'm a vampire."

_I lived with a lot of random vampires. I think I even lived with a vampire Elvis for a while._

"In Louisiana..."

_Did I live in Louisiana?_

"Yes! You did!"

_Did we do anything fun together?_

"No."

_Oh! I remember you now! The angsty vamp! Of course! How's death been treatin' ya?_

"Very well, Greg. Thank you. I was wondering if you remembered me buying the massaging health aid?"

_The what?_

"The massaging health aid. You did commercials for it. You said it was easy money…?"

_Massaging health aid? Oh! You mean the electric vibrator! You use that Bill? Well, I knew you were angsty. I didn't realize you were hormonal. That explains a lot. So, how's the vibrator working for you? Relieving a bit of that angst?_

"It's not for me, Greg."

_You sure? I think you could use it, now that you've mentioned it._

"No, Greg," Bill intoned seriously. "Ah'm using it on a ladyfriend." He let out a self-satisfied chuckle.

_Oh, are you really?_

"Yes."

_Could I speak to this lady friend?_

Bill silently handed the phone over to Sookie. A quizzical look on her face, she took his cell phone.

"Hello?"

_Ah! The buxom blonde! I remember you! So, what're you doing with the angsty vamp? He got you tied up or something? You need me to get you help? Shall I call the police?_

Smiling in understanding, Sookie sought to reassure him. "No, I'm good. My boyfriend, Eric, is here. You remember Eric?"

After a long silence, Greg finally replied.

_Yes, I do. _[Silence.] _ You all together there in the house?_

"Uh, yeah."

_Anybody else?_

"Nope."

_You think you'll still be there tomorrow? If I leave now, I should be able to be in Louisiana in about 24 hours_

"Um, thanks for the offer, Greg. I think we've got it covered here."

_Oh._ [Silence.] _Well, get my number from Chuckles just in case. You know. Maybe in the future._

"Ah, sure." Pause. "I'm gonna pass you back to Bill. Good luck with CBS."

_Thanks._

Bill took the phone. "Well, anyway, Greg. Ah wanted to know how to use this massaging instrument."

_For heaven's sake, Bill. You're 160 years old. Have you spent all that time at the library? You use the whatsit on her hoohoo. How tough can it be?_

"Oh," Bill was still confused. "But what speed?"

_For crissakes, Bill! If she screams for more turn the dial up. What's with the performance anxiety? Let me speak with Eric._

Bill silently passed the phone to Eric.

"Greg, good to talk to you. The bunny puppet continues to be my favorite."

_Thanks, Eric. So you really letting Laugh Riot near your gal?_

"It's either that or I kill him."

[Silence.] _I don't understand you vampires. Your ideas of punishment seem a little off to me. You sure you've given it enough thought?_

"Yes. I see a satisfying end here, in many respects."

_Oh_. [Silence.] _Well, as long as you know what you're doing. Just watch him with the vibrator. Knowing him he's likely to blow the house up._

Eric snickered. "Yes, you make a good point."

_I say you and Sookie still planning to come up for a visit?_

"Yes. In the fall."

_Excellent. Got the guest room all ready. Light tight. All the blood you can drink. Mexicans. And then I've got cleaning staff and servants, too._

"Sounds good. Do you wish to say goodbye to Bill?"

[An explosion of laughter]. _No, that's quite okay. Next time._

Suddenly the velvety smooth sounds of Barry White filled the room. Eric, shutting off Bill's cell phone, sat unobtrusively in his chair to watch. Bill dimmed the lights and took off his lounging jacket. Sookie forced a smile and opened her arms invitingly.

"Hmm, guess you weren't at your prime, when you were turned? Huh, Bill?" Eric was inspecting the former farmer's physique.

"Well, it was after the war. Times were lean. Ah lost mah muscle tone a little."

"Yes, I see. I'm sorry. Don't let me interrupt you."

Moving close to his former girlfriend, Bill had things he wanted to say. "Sookeh, Ah want a chance to give you real pleasure."

"Um, yeah. Thanks."

"Ah never felt our last time lying together properly afforded me an opportunity to show you just how much Ah cared for you."

Pursing her lips remembering the cramped trunk of a late-model American car, Sookie nodded silently in agreement.

"I guess we're in agreement then that that wasn't a real good time, Bill."

"Well, will you let me make this up to you?" he asked, a pleading tone in his voice.

"You know, Bill," Eric interjected. "Reminding Sookie of a horrible experience with you while you're trying to get her in the mood is not the best approach you could take."

"Eric! Ah can't have you interrupting like that!"

"Bill, this is what you agreed to. Besides, it is to my benefit that you perfect your lovemaking as Sookie and I would like nothing more than to see you happily settled with a new woman."

"Ah see."

"Yes. So, why don't you try pleasuring Sookie? Get her in the mood using the vibrator. I am fast enough using my vampire speed, but you see what you can do with the vibrator."

Bill switched the vibrator on to its low setting. "Ah, how is that, dahrling?"

"Hmm, feels good," Sookie replied. "I'm just gonna close my eyes and picture—I mean—relax."

Thinking Sookie appeared a little underwhelmed, Bill switched the dial to medium.

"AH!" Sookie responded with low-throated moan. Writhing around on the bed, Sookie squirmed her way lower the bottom of the bed. Seeing Sookie flushed and in ecstasy due to the joy he, and the Blookstone Massage Wand, were providing, Bill smiled.

_Ah will push her over the edge_, he thought as he pushed the switch into the 'High' position. Suddenly the reverberating on the bed, which before had been merely discernible, ranked on the Richter scale. The high setting on the massage tool caused the bed to bang repeatedly into the wall.

"Hey Bill," Eric said "Turn it back to 'Medium'. This is too much."

"Yeah." Sookie agreed. Completely out of the mood due to the thunderous roar of the massage wand's motor and the clanging of the bed against the wall, Sookie was now sitting upright on the bed.

Trying to push the switch into the 'Off' position, Bill realized it was stuck. "Ah'm having trouble. It seems to be stuck in the 'High' position. Ah think it's broken."

Struggling with the switch, Bill dropped the wand onto the floor near the edge of the bed. Still on, the **Blookstone Thera Spa Turbo Massage Wand** continued to vibrate at an electrifying speed, making a grating noise against the hardwood floor.

Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-Thoomp-

Bill leaned over the edge of the bed to reach for it but only managed to make it fall closer to the wall. As the vibrator continued to shake relentlessly in its spot against the wall, it became obvious to one set of eyes at least that the vibrator seemed to be wreaking havoc with the posts securing the scythe. Grabbing Sookie off the bed, Eric pulled her to a safe corner away from the bed.

Unfortunately, Bill had no chance. The malfunctioning **Blookstone Thera Spa Turbo Massage Wand **vibrated the nails, hooks and fasteners securing the mounting posts right out of the wall. The antique scythe pulled heavily on its metal posts. With every shake of the wall, the scythe's mount became more and more precarious. Finally, the posts just fell out of the wall, bringing the scythe down with it. The scythe fell at a perfect angle to quickly, cleanly, and easily decapitate Bill.

And so, the vampire William T. Compton was snuffed out by the "honest tool" that, in his own words, "helped make this country great."

The two lovers stared in shock at Bill's lifeless body, his disintegrating hands still gripping the manically shaking vibrator.

Eric leaned over, picked up the Blookstone Massage Wand, and shut it off.

"I thought he said it was stuck in the high position?" asked Sookie.

"No," Eric replied, shaking his head. "It was just a little tight. He obviously didn't push hard enough. Pity he lost his muscle tone."

"Ah." Sookie let out a breath. "Well that was not the way I expected the night to end. I guess I should be sorry Bill's dead, but I'll think about it later. Right now, I'm just so happy I don't have to go through with having sex with him. Anyway, are you ready to go home?"

"Yes, lover." He leered at her. "You were a naughty girl this evening. I think someone needs to be taught a lesson."

Eyes wide, Sookie's face flushed. "Oh, yeah," she smiled. "I guess I _was_ a bad girl," she giggled.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**CREDIT/PROPS****: Thanks to hdgcat—not only for the idea, but she helped TREMENDOUSLY with the outline. She came up with the line about scythes making America great. LOLs. Everyone reading hdgcat's "Night Falls"? I think she promised me lemons. Now THAT would be interesting. You'll have to read the fic to find out exactly how interesting... **

**A/N: Thank you for reading. Good thing I've still got this fic to come home to. I need it to stabilize my internal LOLs homeostasis when I go off and attempt to write stuff other than humor. Speaking of which… **

"**One of these Mornings" is a new fic I'm writing. It has two chapters remaining and will be fully posted by Monday, January 17. A suspense/drama originally drafted as a one-shot, I decided to break it up into multiple chapters because I wanted to see if posting the chapters daily contributed to an overall sense of suspense for the reader. Testing the Marshall McLuhan adage that "the medium is the message."**

**Warning: "One of these Mornings" is listed as Suspense/Tragedy and I am **_**not**_** kidding. **


	15. The Wood Chipper

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica Hamby is Alan Ball's. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die.**

—

**WARNING: Sookehverse references. True Blood references. Dead Reckoning references. There is nothing I won't reference.**

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

William Compton lay flat on his bed and yanked. He kept yanking but still he wasn't getting anywhere.

_Ah don't understand why Ah can't get the zipper to come up. Surely Ah am slender enough to wear the same size even if they are skinny jeans?_

As was his bi-weekly routine, Bill had ventured out to the JC Penney in Monroe that Saturday evening. Describing his needs to the sales staff in men's athletic wear, they'd promptly secured for him two pairs of his favorite stain-resistant Dockers.

"Looking good Vampire Bill," said Miriam.

"Yeah, VB! You don't look a day over 170!" This from Immanuel, who doubled as a hair stylist at the JC Penney's Salon in addition to being a salesman at the department store.

It was with a furrowed brow and tight smile, Bill responded to the man's unintentional slight.

"Ah'll have you know Ah am 165 years young."

"Really VB? Never would've guessed!" Immanuel also seemed disinterested as he flicked lint from his sleeve.

"Yeah," nodded Miriam. "Sorry. Your look just screams Crotchety Old Man."

Bill, disappointed, hung his head.

"Ah don't know what to do. Ah am only 165. Maybe vampires have no choice. Fate demands we show our true age somehow."

Miriam and Immanuel furiously shook their heads.

"Nope. That's not it," said Miriam. "My girlfriend's like 200 or so and you really can't tell."

His curiosity piqued, Bill started to wonder who Miriam's girlfriend was when Immanuel's next words solved the mystery.

"It must run in the vamp family. Her maker is H-O-T hot and he's a thousand. Man is fine. Sex-on-a-stick fine. He definitely spent at least 100 years just mastering fashion. He knows how to dress."

Bill made a face. He could think of only one maker-child duo in Louisiana's Area Five that met Miriam and Immanuel's description. Eric and Pam. He couldn't stand Eric and Pam. Always so full of themselves, self-satisfied and arrogant. If Bill hadn't been a cold-blooded vampire, he was positive his blood would've boiled just thinking of those two.

"Ah loathe Eric and Pam. Ah can't think of two vampires Ah'd want to emulate less than them."

"Well, if your goal is to _not_ be like Eric and Pam, I'd say you're doing a fabulous job. They're awesome." Immanuel smirked.

Bill made a face. "Ah do believe you insulted me, Immanuel."

"Meow," said Miriam.

"What? Why are you making the sound a feline makes?"

"It's the universal sound indicating someone is being catty," Immanuel replied in a sing-song voice.

"Ah am not being catty," replied Bill, huffily. "Ah am just expressing mah feelings like Dr. Ludwig said Ah should."

"Rreeeaar." Miriam replied.

"What are you doing? Is that another cat sound?"

"Yes," laughed Miriam.

"Ah can easily see you and Pam together."

"Listen Bill." Glancing at her watch, Miriam was getting impatient. "Do you want to dress like the hot and sexy vampire I know you are—deep down, way, way down? Or do you just want to keep wearing your Dockers?"

Bill's face took on a pensive look as he attempted to vet through his feelings. Miriam and Immanuel exchanged an eye-roll. Immanuel looked at his watch before he too said something.

"Listen, store's only open until ten. You don't really have time to try on other clothes. Let's pick up some pieces for you and you can try them on at home. You know our return policy." Miriam and Immanuel exchanged a knowing glance. "Just don't think you can trick us with the tags. We can tell when something's been worn, VB."

This was how it came to be near midnight on a Saturday and Bill was desperately trying to squeeze himself into a pair of slimfit dungarees.

_Ah cahn't believe Eric wears these kinds of jeans all the time. It's a good thing Ah don't need to breathe because Ah wouldn't be able to._

Finally getting the zipper zipped, Bill rolled to the edge of the bed and somehow got to his feet. He paired his black skinny jeans with a black biker tank top.

_Ah don't know about this. Ah am afraid it doesn't hang right on me. Ah will ask Jessicah._

Bill left his bedroom to go downstairs and find his child and ask her opinion of his new outfit. Lurching down the hallway, he came a halt at the staircase until he remembered he could hover.

"Jessicah. Jessicah." Bill called out.

Jessica, meanwhile, was sitting on the sofa with her boyfriend Hoyt. At the sound of her maker's voice, Jessica jumped up and tried to pull Hoyt towards the front door. Too late in their attempt to leave, Bill quickly found them.

"Oh Hoyt. Good," nodded Bill. "Ah am glad you're both here. Ah need a second opinion. Only Ah guess Ah will get a third opinion, too," snickered Bill. "Ah would like both of you to tell me what you think of mah new outfit."

Jessica, glancing at her maker, felt her eyes go wide. Rendered speechless, the girl's mouth opened and closed several times. She flopped back down on the sofa next to Hoyt. Finally she was able to form words.

"Eric called," she said. "He wants his clothes back." She burst into laughter.

"What? What do you mean?" Bill, frowning, intoned seriously.

"What do I mean? Are you kidding? It's not enough that you stalk Sookie, you're gonna go Single White Vampire on Eric?" Jessica, now doubled over in laughter, buried her head in Hoyt's lap.

"Jess, Jess," laughed Hoyt. "That's not very nice."

Jessica lifted her head to reveal blood tears streaming down her face. When she finally had her giggles under control, she spit out another question.

"Did you finally just sneak up and steal Eric's clothes while watching them have sex?"

Horrified, Hoyt threw a look of disgust at Bill while Bill's face was fraught with embarrassment.

"Jessicah, you know Ah don't watch them having sex," Bill giggled nervously. "Hoyt doesn't know you're joking, Jessicah."

"That's good 'cos I'm _not_ joking. You're a stalky creeper."

"Jessicah, tell Hoyt you're joking."

"You're gonna have to command me."

"Ah command you."

"Fine." Jessica turned to her boyfriend. "Hoyt, I'm joking," she said as she feverishly shook her head back and forth. "It's not true." She nodded her head as she said this.

"Jessicah, it doesn't seem right when your body language negates your words like that."

"Take it or leave it, Bill. I can't help that the maker 'I command you' voodoo thingy let's me do that."

Bill frowned. "Fine." He turned to check himself in the mirror that hung above the mantle. "How do Ah look anyway?"

Jessica rolled her eyes and made a face behind Bill's back. Hoyt gave her a look, urging her to be nice.

"Good, Vampire Bill," offered Hoyt. "You look real good."

"You look fine, Bill." Jessica decided to just say whatever seemed most likely to get him to leave.

"You don't think this shirt is too big on me?"

Jessica looked at Bill's tank top. It actually was probably at least two sizes too big. The large armholes revealed Bill's stark white manboobs while the shirt hung so low it covered Bill's butt like a sweater dress desperately in need of cinching.

"It looks good, Bill." Jessica reassured her maker. She practiced the vampire emotionless expression.

"Does it really look good? Or are you just saying that?"

_Dear God_, Jessica thought. _Please let him just accept my lie. He'd better not command me into telling him the truth or Hoyt and I will never get the hell out of here._

"No, I really mean it." _Crying babies in dirty diapers, crying babies in dirty diapers._

"Hoyt? What do you think?"

"Oh, Vampire Bill, I'm not into fashion. Just plain old jeans and flannel is usually good enough for me. But I can understand you-as someone who's gonna be around a long time-wanting to change up your look once in a while."

Bill nodded, satisfied with Hoyt's answer, even though it actually was no answer at all.

Desperate to change the subject from Bill's ridiculous outfit, Jessica decided to ask Bill where he was going.

"So Bill what're you doing tonight anyway?"

"Ah rented a wood chipper from Home Depot. Sookeh had a problem with a fallen tree. Ah was going to offer to make mulch for her."

Jessica and Hoyt exchanged a look before Jessica finally nodded.

"You're gonna go over to see Sookie dressed like that?"

"Yes."

Wide-eyed, Jessica just nodded. "Okay."

oooOOOooo

A half-hour later Bill was making his way slowly - very slowly- across the cemetery to Sookie Stackhouse's farm.

_Ah so love mah Sookeh. Ah wonder if she'll be happy to see me? Ah am glad Judith is gone so Ah can continue to try to show Sookeh just how much Ah love her. Slow and steady wins the race. Ah will woo her with my southern gentleman charms, newly packaged in hot exciting vampire attire._

Arriving at Sookie's house, Bill climbed the porch steps. As his jeans were so tight, he found it difficult to bend his knees it took several tries before once more he remembered he could hover. Once on the porch, he paused to deeply sniff in the air around the porch. Finally he knocked. From behind the door, he could hear his Sookie speaking.

"Yeah. Thanks for the heads up. Say hi to Hoyt for me."

Suddenly the door swung open.

"Hi Bill." Sookie leaned against the doorjamb but made no move to invite him in.

"Sookeh," said Bill, smiling. "Hello, mah dear. How are you?"

"Good Bill," she nodded. "Real good. I like your outfit. Maybe you and Eric should try going shopping together. Might be able to get some good two-fer deals."

"Oh! An interesting idea. You know me so well," he laughed. "You know how Ah like to be thrifty. But Ah don't think so. Eric and Ah went shopping together once to _**Forever 21**_ to buy clothes for Jessicah. The saleswoman mistook us for a homosexual couple."

Sookie's eyes widened. "You don't say?" _Geez, too bad the bloodbond doesn't have a vamp-cam option,_ she thought. _I would've paid money to see that._

"Well, what can I do for you, Bill? It's nearly one in the morning. I was just going to head in to bed."

"Is Eric here?" Curiosity getting the better of him, Bill made an effort to peer around the door into the house. He hadn't smelled Northman. Well, _fresh_ Northman.

"No, Bill. Eric's at Fangtasia. If you need to see _him_, that's where you're gonna have to go."

"No, no," Bill shook his head, lightly tittering. "Ah'm not interested in seeing Eric."

"Okay," mumbled Sookie. "Could've fooled me. Well, what're you doing here?"

"Sookeh, may Ah just say how lovely you look? Ah particularly love your breasts. If there was a Best Titty Competition at Vic's Redneck Roadhouse, I would vote many times for your lovely sun-kissed orbs."

Sookie made a face. "Thank you, Bill." _Way to go with the inappropriate._

"Ah rented a wood chipper and am making mulch. Ah was going to ask if you'd like me to make mulch out of the tree limbs that Jason cut?"

"Oh, thanks! Eric was going to take care if it but of course there's much better ways I'd rather he and I spend our time together. He's so busy sometimes. I'm so grateful you have time to devote to being a good neighbor."

Wordlessly, Bill nodded.

"Bill," Sookie threw her arms around Bill's neck, hugging him. "That's just so sweet of you. Stop by for a blood tomorrow. Earlier in the evening."

"Yes, Sookeh," smiled Bill, happy that his plan was already working. "Ah'd be happy to."

oooOOOooo

An hour later, Bill had dragged the last tree limb over to the back of his house. After engaging in an hour of manual labor, his hopes for winning back his Buxom Barmaid had gradually eroded.

Ah hope mah Sookeh appreciates mah efforts and thinks of me, of what a good friend Ah am to her, when she's being defiled by that Nordic sex-aholic.

Yes, Bill's hopes and aspirations for a future with his honey were definitely on the wane.

Hmm, now Ah need to just get this wood chipper to work. If Ah can get this done quickly. How do Ah do this? Is it a lever? Or an on-switch?

After playing with the wood chipper for fifteen minutes, Bill finally managed to get the machine to roar to life.

Ah have a feeling this will go quickly. Ah should be able to return to mah house soon. Thank goodness. Ah need to change out of these skinny jeans. They are chaffing mah inner thahs.

Bill grabbed a branch and dropped it into the wood chipper. The whirling blades chopped the wood into chunks, then bits, then smithereens. Bill watched, mesmerized.

That is good. Ah will have to recommend this equipment in mah Facebook page.

Bill continued his activity for twenty more minutes. Eventually he was able to fall into a not unpleasant routine. The ancient agriculturist was able to ease his work anxiety by humming. Tapping deep into his core, Bill emulated the sounds of his favorite chanting monks. What began as a seemingly thankless task had somehow been transformed into a therapeutic pulsing of pleasure.

"Ohm, ohm, ohm…"

Finally, it was time to chop the tree trunk. The remnants of a very old tree, Bill had had quite the struggle in removing the trunk and bringing it to his property. He'd finally just decided to come back to the house and borrow Hoyt's truck to move it.

Straining his muscles—flaccid from more than a century of dormancy—Bill was able to get the trunk into the wood chipper only by pushing it against the outside of the chipper barrel and using the pressure of physics to push it up, up, and up until it finally fell over the rim into the chipper barrel.

There! Got it!

Turning on the switch once more, Bill was perplexed when the wood chipper's motor started only to immediately grind to a halt.

Ah wonder what's wrong?

Hovering onto a stepladder Bill peered down into the wood chipper to see what had caused the equipment to jam.

Ah! Ah see it! Jason must have used the tree for rifle practice. The blade has gotten stuck on a bullet embedded in the wood.

Bill shook his head. Sookie's brother seemed to grow more and more slow-witted with each passing season. Last time they'd spoken Jason had described spending an entire afternoon amusing himself with the contents of a desk—rubber bands, paper clips, pencil erasers. Bill found himself hard-pressed to think of anything that sounded less interesting than engaging in such activity unless it was perhaps watching someone else engage in such activity.

Bill leaned down to move the tree trunk away from the blades.

Ah guess if Ah removed the bullet, the motor will restart?

Bill hovered down and walked with a plodding gait back to the house to grab his sharp penknife from the recycling room. Once outside he hovered back up onto the stepladder and leaned down into the barrel of the wood chipper. Using his knife he was able to successfully chisel the bullet from the trunk. That done, he tossed the bullet onto the lawn.

With that the wood-chipper's motor roared back to life.

Startled, Bill immediately realized his mistake: He, like so many American Do-It-Yourselfers, forgot to switch the woodchipper off before clearing the jam.

The end was both quick and painful as Bill was ground up into mulch.

The magic left his body the second the steel GE blades severed his head from his neck.

Sliced and diced and pureed, in less than a minute it was over.

Bill Compton's screaming could be heard echoing in the distance.

Unfortunately, there was no one around to hear.

Jessica and Hoyt had left the second Bill had returned with Hoyt's truck.

oooOOOooo

Across the Sweet Home Cemetery, Sookie Stackhouse, still awake and engrossed in a romance novel, sat up in bed thinking she heard something in the distance.

_Was that a scream? Or a cat screeching? _ she wondered.

"My lover, you're awake."

Smiling, Sookie turned to see a figure standing outside her bedroom window.

"Hey, what're you doing here? I thought you'd be at Fangtasia all night."

"No," Eric shook his head as he peered in the window. "Delegated some work and was able to leave for a bit. I thought I would remove that tree from your property. Where did it go?"

"Funny thing," Sookie jumped up and ran to the window. "Bill offered to take care of it."

Eric's eyebrow shot up in that way Sookie alternatively found hot or irritating depending on the conversation.

"Well, that is a pleasant surprise. Wonder why." He fell quiet, looking at Sookie. "Perhaps he is still carrying a torch for you."

Sookie smiled. "He can carry whatever he wants to carry. I'm only carrying a torch for you."

Eric smiled. "That's what a vampire likes to hear from his wife."

"You coming in?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Since when do you need an invitation?"

"Still nice to be asked."

Sookie lifted the window up and took a step back so Eric could climb inside.

Once inside, the vampire brought his head down to press his cool lips on the warmer ones of his human wife. Prodding her mouth for entry, Eric was much amused as Sookie played hard to get for all of five seconds. Eric enfolded Sookie in his arms while her arms likewise reached around his waist, tightening into a locked hold.

Finally they pulled apart to allow Sookie some breathing time.

"By the way, you went clothes shopping with Bill?"

Eric grimaced. "Why must you bring him up, now?"

"Sounds like a funny story. Tell me sometime."

"Yes, Sookie." He brought his lips down to her shoulder. "Sometime. Some _other_ time."

"Fair enough."

Backing onto the bed, Sookie lay back down and pulled Eric down on top of her.

"More than fair, I think."

"Agreed." She pulled him down for another kiss.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**AN****: Okay, did you really think the fic was Complete? Ha ha. Nope…**

**CREDIT/PROPS****: To the wonderful ladies of Tangler, especially lmb1309 and Ashmarie for pointing out Bill's new clothing preferences and Single White Eric fixation (See Dead Reckoning, Ch 11, Bill "slumming" it in jeans and a tank top). Thanks to Duckbutt and Jan-of-Arc who both suggested wood chipper.**

**I did a little revision thanks to hdgcat. Forgetting to turn off the jammed equipment causes many more injuries than loose-fitting clothes. It was a toss-up and I guessed wrong. Tidbit I discovered: According to the US Center for Disease Control**** the number of consumers seeking emergency treatment at hospitals for nail gun injuries rose 200% from 1991 to 2005. OOPS. Email me if you can think of a way Bill can die by nailgun. **

**Snarky Sidekick/That Pam Contest:**

**Surely you've heard of the Pam contest by now? We want MORE PAM! Why? Because you can never have too much Pam. Pam = Cowbell.**

**Don't know what to write? Just follow your snark. You can also check out the sample fics on the contest profile (a Fave Author on my profile). "Blood Goggles" by svmfan1 and "Be Your Own Viking" by yours truly.**

**What's in it for you? First prize is a Charlaine Harris-signed copy of "Dead Reckoning." **_**#WINNING!**_


	16. The Amateur Talent Show

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. **

—

**WARNING: Sookehverse references. True Blood references. Dead Reckoning references. Pop culture references. There's really nothing I won't reference, even if it's only amusing to me. LOL. **

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"So what do you think, Eric?"

Eric Northman glanced up at his child, business partner and lieutenant, Pam Ravenscroft. Distracted, he was unsure as to what Pam was referring to.

"Of what?"

"My idea? For a _fundraiser_?"

Eric winced. If it was the idea she'd emailed him about, he had to say it was a _terrible_ idea.

"Pam, I do not think staging a performance of the musical _Oklahoma_ is either amusing, nor appropriate. You know Sookie is still angry."

Pam glared at her maker. "With reason she is angry. You are being a dumbass. And a terrible husband. You are the reason the divorce rate is fifty percent." She snorted. "Regardless, you obviously did not read my second email. I had another idea."

"Yes?"

"A talent show."

Eric, nothing if not a savvy businessman, pulled his eyes away from his computer screen to focus on his child.

"I am listening."

"We open it to everyone. Those interested in participating must pay an entrance fee. Those who wish to see individuals they despise embarrass themselves must similarly pay a fee."

The two vampires silently regarded one another, Eric drumming his fingertips on his desk.

"Was this your idea, Pam?"

Ignoring her maker's question, Pam's eyes traveled around the tiny office before settling once more on Eric.

"What do you think?" she asked again.

"Let me rephrase: what inspired this idea?"

"Did you know Compton sings and plays the piano?"

"_No_..." Eric was incredulous.

"Yes." Pam nodded her head furiously. "Apparently he and that dead whore maker of his were quite the Sonny and Cher back in the day."

Eric grimaced. "And we wish to encourage this why?"

"Dr. Ludwig told Compton he must do more to amuse himself, take more joy out of life."

"And you know this how?"

"I periodically let myself into Ludwig's office to read her file on me." Pam shrugged. "I figure since I'm there I might as well check her notes on all of us."

Eric frowned. "What does my file say?"

"She thinks you and Sookie ought to schedule an appointment for couples therapy."

"The nerve of her."

"Hello? Vampire with one wife negotiating terms on second marriage? Polygamy isn't even accepted among Mormons these days but don't listen to me. Keep on doing what you're doing, Eric. I'm sure it'll all work out in the end."

"Pam your sarcasm is duly noted and highly unappreciated."

Pam slanted her eyes as she fixed them on her maker. "How unappreciated?"

"Say goodbye to your shoe allowance."

"But, this fundraiser — aside from helping make up our losses due to Victor's club — it will also greatly serve your best interests," she pouted.

"Explain."

"Well, so far I've gotten the depressive Compton agreeing to sing and the filthy tiger is going to dress in leotards and do an interpretative dance. Now, if I can think of a 'talent' for the odious Were and enraged shifter, I'd have all your rivals making complete asses of themselves in front of Sookie."

"I see," nodded Eric. "In that case, I am in favor of this idea."

"Good. What will _you_ do?"

"Do not push me, Pam."

oooOOOoooOOOooo

_SEVERAL WEEKS LATER — at Fangtasia..._

_It's the eye of the tiger_

_It's the thrill of the fight_

_Rising up to the challenge of our rival_

_And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night_

_And he's watching us all with the eye_

_Of the tiger_

The capacity crowd at Fangtasia was stunned into silence by the ginormous bald man's dance performance. He did saut-de-chats, ecartes, effaces and pirouettes.

Finally, sweaty and heaving, attired in a pair of painted on tiger-print leotards that would make Steven Tyler envious, the were-tiger was done.

Lafayette Reynolds, Bon Temps native, former V dealer, and chef of Merlotte's, came out onto the raised platform that was serving as the evening's stage. As Lafayette had performed a Carmen Miranda song and dance routine, the delightfully flamboyant Lafayette was still in his full regalia: a sari, bra, and fruitbasket atop his head. Lafayette, as Eric's right hand black man — as opposed to Bobby Burnham who served as Eric's right-hand white man or Charlie Shine, who served as Eric's right-hand white Hollywood celebrity — was serving as the night's emcee.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, weres and witches, vamps and fae, let's hear a round of applause for Quinn. I never thought I could hate the song 'Eye of the Tiger' more, but I stand corrected."

There was a light clapping as confused and drunk bar patrons rubbed their eyes and shook their heads in disbelief.

"Next up we have the lovely Ameeliiiaaa and deadly Paaamelaaa. They are tag-teaming —"

An enthusiastic tittering as well as a few catcalls —"Woot, woot, woot!"— could be heard from members of the audience.

"Aw, you heard about that, huh?" Lafayette nodded knowingly at the crowd. "Amelia and Pamela —this time at Fangtasia's First Annual—"

"Only!" shouted Eric.

Lafayette threw Eric a dismissive smirk, mumbling "bitch, please."

"As I was saying, Fangtasia's First Annual Amateur Talent Show. Here's the lovely Amelia and the deadly Pamela. They will shock and astound you—"

More tittering and catcalls sounded throughout the nightclub.

"Oh," Franklin Mott called out. "Are they gonna let us watch? I've been waiting centuries —_centuries_!—for this! I must text Tara!" Franklin took out his cell phone and began to type his stalkertext.

"I'm prepared to enjoy this too," chimed in Russell Edgington. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha..."

As the raucous crowd continued their loud whistling and catcalls and racy language, Lafayette peered out into the crowd.

"You people are a bunch of sick mother-fuckers, you know that? You keep acting like that, that maenad's gonna come back."

Contrite at being reprimanded—and possibly frightened at the idea of the maenad coming back—the crowd quieted down.

"As I was saying, here's Pam and Amelia to shock and astound you with their magic show!"

Amelia and Pam walked out onto the stage and a new spotlight came on, focusing on an ornate black-with-gold-trim magician's cabinet located to the back of the stage.

"Hey," called out Andy Bellefleur, human. "Isn't Amelia a witch? What the hell kind of amateur night is this? You can't have a witch doing a magic show! Why don't you have one of the vampires bite somebody? Or Bill Compton bore somebody to death?"

"No, no," Amelia, shook her head. "I'm just here to be the assistant. Pam's doing the magic!"

"Yeah, but she's a vampire!" yelled Franklin Mott. "She's got special powers!"

Pam, her anger piqued, glared at Franklin and then Andy. But she remained silent.

It was Amelia who spoke. "Uh, everyone knows Pam hasn't got any special gifts!" The witch laughed. "Aside, of course, from the one all ladies have: the prerogative to shave years—or centuries!—off their birthdate!" Amelia doubled over at her own joke.

Pam was not amused. "That is NOT funny, Amelia," muttered Pam coldly. "You know how old I am. Everyone does."

Unconvinced, Amelia shrugged wordlessly.

"Anyway, we need a volunteer from the audience." Pam peered into the audience. "Who will be the brave?..." her eyes fell on Quinn.

"Don't even think it, Deader."

Pam scowled at him. "Wouldn't dream of it, Tiger."

Continuing to glance into the audience, Pam's eyes fell on Andy Bellefleur. Watching the rotund detective, Pam raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"You kidding me? What do I look like to you? Some whacked-out V addict? Who the hell else would be crazy enough to let you two Lesbo loonies saw them in half?"

Pam frowned. "How did you know what my trick was?"

"You kidding, Blondie? That's the only magic trick folks know. What the hell else would you be doing?"

"How dare you spoil the surprise!" Pam replied angrily.

"I just told you it wasn't a surprise!" Andy stood up and turned to face the crowd. "All right. Who here was surprised to hear that the trick was to saw somebody in half? Raise your hand!"

In the audience one lone hand went up.

"See that?" Andy, triumphant, turned around to face Pam. "The only one who didn't know was Vampire Bill—and he's the most clueless being in Northern Louisiana! What did ya think it was, Vampire Bill?"

Bill Compton, 170 years young, shrugged. An emo vampire, the smile on Bill's face, as usual, resembled a grimace more than anything.

"Ah thought maybe they'd pull a rabbit out of a hat."

Silently, Andy threw Pam a satisfied look. "See?"

Pam rolled her eyes. "Fine, Detective Andy. You were right."

"Thank you! 'Bout time somebody gives me a little credit around here."

"Bill Compton!" Pam called out to the vampire.

At the sound of Pam's sharp summons, Bill jumped and let out a slight shriek. "Eek!"

"Bill, what's the matter with you?" Pam snarled in disgust. "You've always been a terrible vampire. I suspected you were less than a man. Are you flat out a woman?"

"Ah'll have you know Pam, Ah have post traumatic stress disorder."

"How could that be? You only dated Sookie a few months," she joked and smirked at her friend, the blond telepathic barmaid who sat in the front row.

"Cute, Pam! Very cute! I thought y'all were doing magic, not a comedy routine." Sookie retorted.

"Ah, my lover! So you do speak!" Eric, smiling, glanced over at the telepath.

"Not to you, you Viking Bigamist."

"Sookie! Haven't I explained?"

"Please! Talk to the hand! In fact, just this finger!" With that, Sookie showed Eric exactly which finger he ought to direct all future comments to.

"You're being crass."

"You're being a cheater."

"I haven't done anything."

"But you're in _negotiations_! _Ne-go-ti-ations_! How 'bout I start negotiating a pre-nup...with Andy over there?" she said, pointing to the detective.

"Whoa...whoa...whoa! I like you and all Sook," the detective sputtered, "but I don't think I can meet your level of _gettin'-your-freak-on._"

"Ew! Ew! Shut up, Andy!" Sookie spat back with disgust.

"What're you angry at me for? You're the one who only dates vampires and animal-people!"

Sookie closed her mouth, drawing her lips into tight, straight line.

"Hey y'all," Lafayette called out from the stage. "Can we get back to the point of our night?"

"Excuse me, Lafayette," intoned Bill. "May Ah say something?"

"Sure Vampire Bill," Lafayette nodded. "Why not? Everybody else is. What's on yo' mind?"

"Ah'd just like to say mah post traumatic stress disorder was caused bah mah being a soldier in the Civil War, and not bah mah Sookeh. Ah love Sookeh and Ah would dah for her."

"Thanks, Bill," said Sookie. "I appreciate you saying that." She cut a glance at Eric. "_Some people_ spread rumors that I'm difficult."

Eric rolled his eyes, while Pam smirked.

"You tell him, Sookie." Pam said, still smiling.

"Pam," Eric threw an angry look at his child."Not now."

"Fine." Pam bestowed a sullen glare at her maker before turning her attention to Bill. "Bill? Since you're obviously a fan of magic, would you please be our volunteer?"

Bill, silent for several minutes, surveyed the room as he debated Pam's request. The rustling of papers could be heard as audience members fidgeted with their programs. Several chairs were moved, scraping loudly against the concrete floor. A couple of yawns were also heard. Finally, after several long minutes, Bill had reached a conclusion. "Ah believe Ah could do that."

"Wonderful," replied Pam, rolling her eyes. "Let me call the press."

Bill, hurt by Pam's sarcasm, responded with his Angry/Constipated face.

"Bill, how do you do that?" asked Pam, sounding genuinely curious. "As pathetic as you are, you're still vampire. Somehow you manage to achieve this this look of absolute wretchedness, I could almost swear you were human."

"It's cos of that giant rod he's got lodged up his ass!" called out Vampire Andy. "Grandpappy hasn't had a bowel movement in 140 years and he still somehow manages to look like he needs a dose of ExLax!"

"Andy! Weren't you human a moment ago?"

"Yeah," Human Andy replied. "I'm still human. What's your problem?"

Bill frowned once more. "Nothing. Ah guess Ah'm confused." Glancing at everyone, he saw they were all watching him expectantly, even Sookie. "Fine. Ah'll be your volunteer," he said, with no small amount of bitterness.

_Ah can't stand Pam. And Eric,_ he thought as he got up from his seat and made his way to the stage_. Eric the Northman with his Longship and Swedish accent. Sweden! Ah bet Eric's been lain on more than all the Tempurpedic mattresses put together!_

A few minutes later, Amelia, Pam, and Bill stood onstage. Amelia was showing off the interior of the magician's cabinet.

"As you can see, it's completely empty. There are no compartments. There's no place to hide."

Pam snickered. "Believe me, if there were, Jill here would find it in a heartbeat," she snorted.

"Oh, Pam," giggled Amelia. "Anyway, Bill, I'm going to ask you to get inside the cabinet. Put your head through the top opening; your hands through the side holes, and your legs down through the bottom holes."

"Got that, Bill? We know it's been a while since you've gotten any of your body parts anywhere near a hole, but you still remember the concept, don't you?"

Agitated, Bill turned to glower at Pam. "Ah'll have you know, Pam, Ah have a Very Serious Girlfriend named Judith."

"Oh, please! We all know you drove her away with your blah blah angstiness blah."

"You do?"

"Of course," Amelia replied guilelessly. "Detective Andy sent an email alerting everyone."

"What? Why?"

"You don't get the Safe Streets plaque by livin' with your head up your ass, Vampire Bill," called out Andy.

"Yeah, Bill," agreed Amelia. "Andy's got us all organized into a neighborhood watch, so when there's news, we all get it."

"How come Ah didn't know? Pam doesn't even live in Bon Temps!"

Pam smiled. "I signed up. I need a laugh once in a while." She stared at her maker and his 'wife'. "Things have been a little tense lately."

"Do not blame me, Pam," Eric called out. "Sookie's being difficult."

"Me? Are you nuts?" Sookie replied, aghast.

"No! It's you! You're being a terrible husband," Pam shot back. "You tell Freyda no. If she challenges it, you kill her. Why are you making it so complicated?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Detective Andy called out. "No kill talk. Do I have to remind you vamps I'm a cop?"

"Yes," nodded Pam. "Why don't you introduce yourself? Like you did last time?"

Andy, baffled, had a half-thoughtful, half-annoyed look on his face; finally, once he realized what Pam was referring to, the annoyed look took over. "_What the hell is wrong_ _with you_?" he scowled at Pam. "I was screaming out 'pig!' 'cause that maenad of yours had a pig! I wasn't doing it to introduce myself! Police officers don't go around referring to themselves that way!"

"Whatever you say, flatfoot," shrugged Pam.

All of a sudden Arlene called out. "Hey! I have to go home soon to feed my demon baby! Y'all think you could get this show on the road?"

"You said it, girlfriend!" seconded Lafayette.

"Thank you, Lafayette," Arlene smiled at her coworker. "By the way, I take back what I said about you and Jesus being a bad influence on the baby."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"Well, baby Rene was so busy practicing his little sashay walk y'all taught him, he didn't bite the heads off Lisa's Barbie dolls at all yesterday."

"That a fact?" asked Lafayette.

"Yeah," nodded Arlene. "I know a lot of folks would rather have their child be a serial killer over a gay, but I'm thinking I'd actually go the other way around."

"Thanks, Arlene." Lafayette shook his head. "I can't tell you what it means to me to hear you say that."

"No problem, Lafayette. I like the fruit basket on your head. Very colorful. Is it supposed to be like representative of that fruity-gay rainbow y'all love so much?"

"Shut up, Arlene."

Insulted, Arlene made an angry huff noise before sitting back down.

"Okay folks. With no further ado, here's the moment you've been waiting for," Lafayette announced. "Ladies take it away." With that Lafayette stepped down from the stage.

"Okay, so Bill's gonna get inside the cabinet," directed Amelia.

Everyone watched with interest as Bill climbed inside the cabinet.

"Bill, did you ever get that life insurance policy?" Pam was inspecting her fingernails as she posed this question.

"_What_?"

"Just kidding," snorted Pam. "You're so gullible!"

"Anyway, as you all can see, Bill is now inside the cabinet" said Amelia. "His head —"

"Love the new cut, by the way, Bill," interrupted Pam.

"Thank you. Ah thought 140 years was long enough."

"Really?" said Pam. "I was about to nominate those sideburns of yours for a spot in the Smithsonian."

"Are you insulting me, Pam?"

"I don't know. Am I? I thought I was complimenting you. Maybe you don't know how to take a compliment." Pam winked at the audience, who chuckled in response.

"What's going on? Why's everyone laughing? Why're they laughing?" Bill unable to see with the spotlights in his face could only stare unseeing into the audience.

"Nothing, Bill," smirked Pam. "Everyone's just excited to see your magic trick. Anyway, as everyone can plainly see, emo Bill is now completely encased in the cabinet. His floppy head is here." Pam pointed to Bill's head. "His weakling arms here." She pointed to one arm. "His pasty legs here." She pointed to his legs.

"Pam, are all those adjectives necessary?" asked Bill.

"No," she shrugged. "But they're fun."

"Yeah, so," injected Amelia. "Now it's time for the magic. Pam, show everybody your saw."

Pam lifted a saw up from the floor next to the cabinet.

"So, are we gonna do a clean split down the center or a decap?" Pam asked the audience.

Asked their opinion, half the audience responded with "Center, center" while the other half were rooting "Decap, decap."

"Sounds like an even split," decided Pam. "Let's do a decap. It'll be more fun that way."

"Okay," Amelia agreed excitedly.

With that Pam took the saw and held it over Bill's head.

"Any final whines...uh, I mean words, Bill?"

"You know how to do this trick, don't you? Ah mean you practiced and everything?"

Pam fell silent. Most of the times she and Amelia were supposed to practice the trick, they'd actually wound up practicing other tricks. Or positions. Or practicing with new toys.

Had they actually practiced? Pam was certain that they had. Maybe.

"Bill, really. You were overpowered by a female and made vampire. You fought on the losing side of the Civil War. You lost Sookie to Eric, who is perhaps, the world's worst husband—"

"Pam, I'm warning you."

Pam rolled her eyes in response to Eric's threat.

"How much worse do you think your luck could possibly get?"

Considering, the angsty vamp quieted.

"Ah see your point, Pam. Perhaps you're right."

Pam smiled. "Of course, I am."

Without another word, Pam slammed the saw down straight through Bill's neck. His head—with it's slightly more stylish boy band haircut and absent it's century-old sideburns —fell with a loud thump and rolled along the floor to rest at her master's feet.

"Pam, you could've just apologized. No need to behead Compton."

"No, Eric! It was an accident! I swear!"

"Pam! Where'd you get that saw?" asked Amelia.

"What? Why?"

"That's not the trick saw!"

"Oh! You mean the saw we use makes a difference? I thought this one was nicer. See here? It's got a gold and red handle. Matches my pumps."

Amelia, wearing a tight-lipped smile, just shook her head. Everyone in the audience sat quietly. Finally, Arlene started to clap. A few seconds later, everyone but a few were clapping.

"What's wrong with you people?" asked Sookie, disgustedly looking around at her friends and neighbors. "They screwed up the trick! That was not supposed to happen! You're just cheered them on like they did it right!"

"Sookie Stackhouse, just because you were born with a God-given parlor trick, doesn't give you the right to poopoo other folks' attempts to learn new tricks. Sure these gals messed up, but we all mess up. I messed up datin' a serial killer. Then I messed up datin' the same serial killer a second time, and now I have a demon baby. You messed up by datin' Bill. Now you're datin' that fine hunk of vampire but you've messed up again because he's gonna marry somebody else. It's okay to mess up, Sookie." Arlene had gradually gotten teary-eyed as she espoused her theories on "messing up". Finally she wrapped her arms around Sookie in a hug.

Andy Bellefleur stood up. "Well, I'm gettin' the hell outta here. You vamps really need to get your shit together. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see this. As long as you stay here and don't move to Renard Parish, I'm cool with you all. But do not pull any of this shit in my parish. I'm lookin' to get the Safe Streets award again next year." He nodded seriously. "Anyone messes up my award is gonna have to answer to me."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo\o/oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**AN****: Is it me or is Bill's accent getting more pronounced? LMFAO****…Did you see King Douchebag on True Blood? Kill Bill was nominated for a GiggleSnort award! YAY! See link on my profile to vote for Kill Bill! July 2 is the deadline for voting! Remember: A vote _for_ Kill Bill is a vote _to_ Kill Bill. :D**

**CREDIT/PROPS****: To the wonderful ladies of Tangler - esp SeraG for the "Eye of the Tiger" suggestion! to Jan-of-Arc for magic show idea; storiesforevy for reminding me how much fun Andy's "pig" obsession was and for Bill's new nickname! LOLz. Latebreaking! Thanks to storiesforevy for her fine pimping! *blows kiss***

**Snarky Sidekick/That Pam Contest: JUST DO IT! For more Pam inspirations check Kill Bill Ch 7 & 13.**

**What's in it for you? First prize is a CHARLAINE HARRIS signed copy of "Dead Reckoning."**


	17. The Osprey Nest

**Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I'm just stepping up because Bill needs to die. Greg Ferguson belongs to CBS latenight. :)**

* * *

William Compton, in addition to being a Southern gentleman and 170 year young vampire,was also an avid environmentalist. That he was only alive at night and missed seeing the creatures of the day— and that most living creatures fled upon his approach—was yet another cause of angst in his angst-filled life. Or death.

_Ah don't understand why Eric is demanding Ah do floor duty at Fangtasia. Ah'm the Area's number one moneymaker. Ah shouldn't have to do floor duty_, thought Bill as he walked from his car towards the nightclub owned by his area's sheriff. Noting that the club's parking lot was full, Bill resolved to park several blocks away. Hearing his phone ring, Bill pulled out his cell. Seeing the identity of the caller Bill sighed.

"What do you want, Eric?"

"Compton, is that the appropriate way to address your sheriff?"

"Ah will see you momentarily. Ah don't know why you're calling me."

"I'm calling you because you're late. I felt I needed to confirm you remembered you had floor duty tonight."

"Ah remembered. With your construction project, there was no parking available at Fangtasia. Ah had to park several blocks away."

"Bill, there's a garage around the corner."

"Yes, but that costs $5.95 for the first hour and a dollar for every hour after that."

Silence filled the air.

"Compton, how are you not a billionaire yet with your unsurpassed parsimoniousness?"

"Oh, just because Ah don't drive a Corvette you're calling me cheap. Ah'll have you know Ah'm not cheap."

"Bill, you are cheap. I wasn't even considering the car you drive but now that you mention it, your five year old Cadillac was probably sold at a discount. Sookie's driveway would never have been set to rights were it not for me. You selfishly cut a slice of her earnings every time she worked for me, no better than a common pimp."

"Are you calling mah Sookie a whore?"

"Bill, we've discussed this. Sookie is not your anything; she is my wife. She is nothing to you but a fond memory." Silence. "Why aren't you here? Did you park in Monroe?"

"Ah am almost at Fangtasia. Ah'm approaching your construction crane now."

"Shall we call the press."

"No need to be snotty, Eric." As Bill walked the remaining yards to Fangtasia, he looked up at the sound of a noise. "Eric, there's a bird on your crane."

"Yes, I know. We have an osprey that has established her nest on the crane."

"Nest? Do you mean the osprey has babies?"

"Yes, yes. She has about four eggs I believe."

"Well, well, well," said Bill, smugly. "That will certainly hold up your expansion of Fangtasia."

"What are you saying, Compton? There will be no delay. We will be removing the osprey and her eggs tomorrow. I have Alcide's company doing the expansion. He has strict instructions to not let anything hinder our progress. The expanded Fangtasia is to be complete in time for All Hallows Eve. "

"But Eric! Osprey are endangered! Ah will not stand by and let you kill that mama and her babies!"

Bill could hear Eric sigh over the line.

"Bill, can we not solve this compulsive-enviro-depression that you suffer from? Are you not seeing Dr. Ludwig ? Did you not smartly score a discounted rate for sessions with her?"

Bill's ego briefly bolstered by his Sheriff's compliment, he couldn't help a self-satisfied smile from settling on his face.

"Why yes, Ah do have discounted sessions."

"Well, are they doing any good?

Not happy at the insinuation in Eric's voice, Bill grimaced.

"Ah don't think there's anything wrong with me, Eric," he scoffed. "Ah'm just sensitive."

"You weren't very sensitive when you used my wife to score points with Sophie-Anne."

"You know Ah had no choice."

"No, Bill," replied Eric. "In the end, you acted without honor. It was I who had to tell Sookie the truth." Eric let out an unamused snort. "For all your _sensitivity_, you have no honor. No backbone. You'll never stand up for anyone, or anything."

Angry, Bill shut his cell phone in a snit.

_Ah do have honor. Ah do have backbone_, he said to himself as he made his way to Fangtasia's entrance. _Ah just don't always have an opportunity._

Bill picked that moment to look up. Seeing the construction crane before him, he noticed a slight movement. He could see that it was the osprey. Glancing up, the emo vampire made eye contact with the avian creature.

"You certainly could use help, now, couldn't you, Mama Osprey? Someone to step in and vow to protect you and not betray you no matter what their queen —or their sheriff — wanted."

Suddenly, a bulb went off in Bill's brain. "Ah will be that person, mama osprey. Ah will save you and protect you from that Scandinavian... Scandinavian...ornithophobiast!"

Above him, the osprey looked on blankly.

"Ah know you don't understand mah fine feathered friend. But you will see. Ah, William T Compton, will save you. Ah _am_ an honorable vampire."

An hour later, Eric Northman and his child and second, Pam Ravenscroft, stepped out of Fangtasia to look for their missing minion.

"Eric, I don't know why you're surprised he didn't make it to the club for his floor duty. Aside from seducing Sookie and doing that Rainman-like database, it's not like Compton has demonstrated himself as much of a self-starter."

"Pam, Compton said he was on his way. He spoke of the —" Glancing up, Eric fell silent.

"He spoke of what, Eric?" At Eric's head jerk, Pam followed his gaze. "You've got to be kidding," said Pam with a smirk.

The two blond vampires stared up at the Civil War veteran.

"Compton, have you finally lost what's left of your common sense?" Eric called up to the dark-haired vamp.

"Bill, are you so desperate you've resorted to dating the nesting osprey?" inquired Pam.

"What? No Pam!" Bill shouted at them from where he was perched, chained to the crane.

"Bill, use your _inside_ _vampire_ voice," joked Pam. "We can hear you. Remember? No need to shout."

"Well, Ah'm offended you would think Ah would defile a bird."

"Bill, you fucked your great-great-great granddaughter and nearly twisted Lorena's head off while roughing it. Why should I put anything past you?"

"Enough, Pam." Eric glared at his child. "I'm not concerned with Bill's proclivity for twisted intercourse. I am concerned with his proclivity for messing up my club expansion. The workers will be here before sunrise to resume work."

"_You mean_ they're going to destroy this family of osprey! Ah will not allow it!"

"For crying out loud, can we sue Ludwig for malpractice?" grumbled Pam. "This is not an improvement, Eric."

"Duly noted, Pam. Now be quiet and let me think." Eric focused on his one time rival. "Bill, we don't want to kill the bird. We just need to move it. You understand the difference, don't you?"

"You know, Jill. Kind of like you and Sookie. How you were going to move her to New Orleans to work for Sophie Anne."

"Pam. Don't make me say another word."

"Fine."

"Bill," called Eric. "Have you forgotten you're a vampire? How do you expect to be chained to that crane during the day?"

"Ah don't expect it. Ah have a friend who will take over before sunrise."

"Really?" Incredulous, Eric responded. "I find that hard to believe."

"What, Eric? You're surprised Ah wasn't going to just sacrifice mahself? You think Ah have a death wish?"

"No, I don't think you have a death wish," responded Eric. "I actually think you have a bloated sense of self-importance and as a result it would never occur to you to end your own existence as you'd feel the world would suffer unmitigated pain at your absence." Pam barked in laughter. "No, I'm just surprised you have a friend willing to chain themselves to a crane with you."

"Touché, Eric. I don't believe he really has a friend." Pam directed her gaze upward. "It's that drunk you pay to run errands for you, isn't it? That failed actor?"

As if on cue, suddenly Greg Ferguson appeared.

"Oh, hey, I say! Sheriff Eric, Lovely Pam!" Greg waved "Are you here to save the birds too? I told Bill it sounded like a birdbrained idea —" hahaha — "but he insisted. Then I told him I figured he just wanted to do it 'cos it was the only way he could assure himself he'd get it up. Ha ha ha! Get it?Hey! Vampire Bill! I'm here! You still alive? ...Uh...Or whatever it is you are, when you're not staked and flaking?"

"Yes, yes," nodded Bill. "Greg, Ah'm fine. Did you bring the food?"

"Food? What food?" asked Pam.

"I thought I smelled something. Fish?" asked Eric.

"You got it, Sheriff, " answered Greg, "You have any idea how much fish I had to buy?" Greg paused his chatter to direct his words to Bill, 30 feet above. "I say! Bill! You owe me quite a chunk of change. I know you don't eat but your estimate on how much this fish was going to cost was utter bullcocky. I had to write a check for $500 and I dont have that kind of money, Bill. I expect my check to bounce like those tatas on that lovely gal of yours."

"Ssh! Quiet," hissed Bill.

Eric's eyes narrowed at Greg's words. His head twisted sharply as he turned to look up at Bill.

"Bill? What lovely gal do you have with bouncing _tatas_?"

"Are you serious, Eric? It sounds like _Glinda the Emo Vampire_ is still going around telling people Sookie's his."

Eric growled. "Bill, is that true?"

The vampire laughed uneasily. "Well, maybe Ah haven't been diligent about setting misapprehensions straight."

"Well I don't know this Miss Apprehensions, but if she's fond of visiting the island of Lesbia, who are we to try to set her straight?" asked Greg. Laughing, he shoulder-bumped Eric. "Know what I mean?"

"Unbelievable," muttered Eric as he stared up at Bill. "It's like you're daring me to bring the final death upon you."

"You could never do that. Ah'm too important to Sookie."

"Yes, yes." Finally Eric shook his head. "Pam, we have work to continue this night. We'll have to trust the Were to get the drug addict down from the crane." Eric snarled looking at Greg. "Shouldn't be too difficult. Years of hard living has probably left him incontinent."

"Oh, you cheeky monkey! I know full well which continent we're in!"

"Yes, well. Good for you, then. Pam. Now."

"Of course, Eric."

With a last look at the smug-looking vampire chained 30 feet up, Eric and Pam walked back to Fangtasia, but not before Eric muttered something in Swedish, prompting Pam to burst out laughing.

Irate, Bill made a face. "Ah know you said something about me. It's not fair. You talking about me in Swedish!"

"Man up, Bill," said Eric, with a shake of his head.

With that, the Sheriff and his child were gone.

"Yeah, so Bill?" yelled Greg. "You owe me for all the fish ya know?"

"Yes, yes, Greg," nodded Bill. "Don't worry about it. I'm good for it."

"Ah, coulda fooled me, ya cheap bastard," mumbled Greg.

"What did you say?" called Bill.

"I said 'I'd like to fuck the blond vampire! And that Pam ain't half bad, either!"

Perturbed, Bill made a face.

"Anyway, you want me to climb up there to bring you the fish or will you come down and get it?"

"Ah'm chained to the crane so you'd best come up."

"Chained, are you?" asked Greg, glancing upward. "Oh, yes. I see now. I say you think that's wise? Chaining yourself up outdoors? Aren't you allergic to the sun? Like you're allergic to paying people what you owe them?"

"What did you say, Greg?"

"How is it you're so hard of hearing, anyway? Don't you vamps have bionic hearing?"

"I can't hear you, Greg. Your Scottish accent is very difficult to understand. You should take a class and learn how to assimilate more."

"I'll assimilate you, you damn jackass," grumbled Greg. "Well, I'll bring the fish up now, Bill."

With that Greg started to climb up the side of the crane carrying a duffel bag filled with alewife.

"That smells terrible!" observed Bill.

"It's raw fish, Bill. It's not known for smelling good. That's why people always talk about something smelling fishy. It means something's not right. Because fish stinks." Greg rolled his eyes. "For crissakes, why do I have to explain stuff to you? Spending time with you is like spending time with my grandfather! Only he's a better driver! You know something? He never would've let those fairies get your lady friend."

"Greg, Ah don't appreciate that. It's not a funny joke."

"I wasn't joking you stubborn vampire! My grandad does 80 on these country roads. There's the one light in town and you're the only one who ever gets caught at it."

"That. Is. Ridiculous."

"Yes, yes," nodded Greg. "Anything anyone says about you being an idiot is 'ridiculous.' You need help, Bill. Your inability to see your faults will be your undoing. You mark my words."

With that last comment, the Scotsman tossed the bag of fish up to his vampire friend.

"Thank you, Greg."

"Whatever." The surly Scotsman quickly made his way back down the side of the crane.

"You're coming back at four thirty to relieve me. Yes?"

"Yes, yes," Greg replied. "I'm going to drink to kill some time. Maybe I'll have a few at Fangtasia."

"But Greg, you must come back on time or I'll accidentally meet the sun."

"Yes, yes, Bill. Understood. What do you expect me to do? It's two in the morning. I'm not gonna drive all the way back to your haunted house in Podunk. I'll have to turn right back around."

"Oh," nodded Bill. "Ah guess that makes sense. See you at four-thirty."

"Yep, toodles, Bill. See you in a bit."

Three AM.

"Bill, you still here?"

"Yes, Eric. I'm committed to seeing this through. "

"Well, I won't argue that you should be committed," said Eric. "That's for certain."

"Eric, ready to take me up on that little wager?" Pam asked.

"I don't think so, Pam. It's really in poor taste to bet on Bill dying because of his inappropriate vampire-bird love."

"Eric, you're no fun. I swear it's Sookie rubbing off on you."

"Regardless, we're not betting on Compton's final death," said Eric. "I will say this: it will be a merciful final death when it finally does arrive."

Bill sighed angrily. "That's not funny, Eric."

"Humor, like music, is very much up to one's individual tastes, Bill."

"Well, Ah don't think that's funny."

"Yes, well, I don't particularly enjoy those wailing monks you take such delight from."

Bill frowned.

"Later, Bill," said Eric. "Don't stay with your bird friends past sun-up."

"Yes, yes."

Without another word, Eric and Pam were gone and Bill, once more, was left to his own devices. He decided to chat more with the mama osprey.

"You don't know how good you have it. Ah'd love to be a bird and be able to fly." The osprey let out a call. "Yes," agreed Bill. "Eric flies but Ah don't think he appreciates his gift. Some people — some vampires — are just so selfish and self-entitled. Ah am only a vampire 140 years, so Ah have managed to hold on to vestiges of mah humanity. But Eric, Eric has been a vampire for nearly a thousand years."

The osprey issued another call.

"He has not held onto his humanity, but somehow mah Sookie thinks herself in love with him."

The osprey sounded another call.

"Ah know, Ah know. It's unbelievable. Anyway, Mama Osprey, Ah don't fly. Ah do hover so Ah can imagine what it's like to fly. Only very slow and low to the ground."

The osprey let out another high-pitched screetch in response.

"Just because Ah am not 6'4" or 6'3" with long blond Fabio hair and ripped muscles. Do you believe that, mah bird friend?"

The osprey sounded another reply.

"Ah like you, too, Mama Osprey."

Suddenly a loud bird call sounded.

"Oh, is this Papa Osprey?"

The male osprey, angered that a strange being had gotten so close to his mate, kept flying over the vampire, zeroing in on him at close range. At the bird's loud, piercing chirps and threatening flyovers, Bill screamed.

"Oh no! Papa Osprey, it's not like that! Ah'm a friend. Ah come in peace!"

The angry osprey, undeterred, proceeded to attack Bill. Again and again, he stabbed the vampire with his sharp curved beak.

"Oh no! Papa Osprey! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ah can't defend mahself because you're endangered. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ah am so weak. Ah cant believe that bird took out mah eye. Ah will just have to wait here until Greg comes to relieve me."

Three Hours Later

Greg Ferguson, running a little late, jaunts over to the crane where several construction workers are gathered.

"Hey," he says to the dark-haired man who appears to be in charge. "I say, did you see a pasty, flabby, wrinkly fella with unfashionable sideburns, cheap kahkis, and a penchant for melodrama?"

"You mean Vampire Bill?"

"Oh, you know him, do you?"

"You could say that. I think this is him."

"Oh?" Greg glanced at a pile of clothes lying on the ground at the base of the crane.

"Yeah," nodded Alcide. "He was already gone when we got here. Only thing left is his clothes."

"He stripped off his clothes and left? There's something seriously off with that vampire. I kept trying to tell him —"

"No, he didn't strip. He burnt. Or melted. Whatever happens when they're caught in the sun."

"Oh! You're kidding. That's for real? Geez, Bill was always exaggerating to get sympathy. It was always, 'wah wah, this,' and 'wah wah that.' I figured that stuff about the sunlight was just him making up stories again. Well, now I feel bad for letting Ginger handcuff me to the bed. One thing led to another. Yada yada yada. Lost track of time. Decided gettin' it on with the cheap slut was more important than hanging chained to a crane with a bird."

"Wise choice, man."

"Thank you," replied Greg.

"We moved the birds, by the way. They're fine."

"Oh, that's good to hear. Say, what's your name?"

"Alcide Herveaux."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Alcide Herveaux. Maybe we could get lunch sometime?"

Alcide shrugged. "Sure. We break at noon."

"Oh, fantastic. I'll see you then."

* * *

**AN: Thanks to Rebelina for this kill scenario altho shipping Greg and Alcide at the end was my idea. LMFAO. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing Kill Bill and YAM. I've been strapped for time so I haven't been replying to reviews but thank you thank you thank you. You keep me going. And don't worry about me overworking. I actually love my job so it's all good. **

**For all of you who are on LiveJournal, check out fffbone's photo in Photophile's Photo of the Week Poll. www(dot)livejournal(dot)com / poll / ? id = 1784220 **


	18. Anger Management

**Disclaimer: I know it's been a while but Bill still needs to die. Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris. Jessica belongs to Alan Ball. Greg Ferguson still belongs to CBS latenight. :)**

* * *

"Aw, Grandpappy, it ain't personal." Andy Bellefleur, a months-old vampire told his great great great grandfather and grandsire, Bill Compton.

"It isn't?" asked Bill. "You mean that? You're not just saying that?"

Thoughtfully, the former police officer frowned as he stared at his much older kinsman.

"Aw, I can't lie to you. It _is_ personal." Andy felt compelled to explain as he saw blood tears start to well in the overly-emotional vampire's eyes. "Hold your messy tears, there, Bill. It's just," he paused, as if trying to find a softer way to deal the blow, "I know we're kin and all but frankly, I find you pretty annoying—."

"But Andy, in addition to being your maker's maker, Ah am also your great great great grandfather."

"Yeah, yeah," Andy nodded with a roll of his eyes. "Like I'm gonna forget that any time soon. That's a peculiar little game you got goin' there. Portia and Grandma are still in therapy from your disgusting little fling—."

"Ah assure you, Andy. Ah did not know at the time Portia was mah-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," replied Andy, with an impatient wave of his hand. "Save your belly-aching. I've heard your sob story and I don't buy it. I figure you think we must be related to the Stackhouses. No other explanation for you stalking Sookie like you do."

"Ah do not stalk Sookeh. Ah love Sookeh." Bill's lips quivered as he once more fought off a stream of tears. "Ah just want to be there for her. She is so alone—."

"Yeah, yeah," Andy replied, shaking his head in disgust. "Spare me your melodrama. Ya know, they handed out the Oscars the other night. We really should ought to ship you to Hollywood. You'll fit right in with those melodramatic namby-pamby types."

"Ah don't understand why you're calling me a melodramatic namby-pamby. Ah just feel very deeply. Ah have been around many years and Ah have experienced much pain and Ah—."

"Yeah, yeah, Vampire Bill. Heard it all before. Save it for Doc Ludwig. She's the only one willing to sit through it these days."

"Where is Jessicah?" Bill's eyes darted around the living room. "She will listen to me."

Andy, exasperated, just shook his head. If his blood still flowed, his face would've been flush with consternation.

"Well, ya know Jess can't really stand you either. She only moved back in 'cause she and Hoyt were having problems. I'm sure she'll move out the second they patch things up."

"Really? She didn't come home to spend time with her maker?"

"Jesus, Bill, did ya really think that was a possibility?" Andy, an incredulous expression on his face, shook his head.

"That's what she said."

Andy grunted. "That's because Doc Ludwig told her to." Andy watched as Bill's lips silently formed an "O". He nodded again to punctuate the veracity of his words. "Anyway, a couple of the guys are coming by to hang. I'd appreciate it if you stayed to yourself and didn't bother anybody."

"Oh!" Bill knew he needed to make new friends. His lover-sister, Judith, before she left him, was constantly lecturing him on the need to break out of his shell and let go of the past.

_That's easy for her to say but mah past is much better than mah present. Ah miss mah Sookeh. Ah wish she was in mah present instead of in mah past. But she's in Eric's present. Ah hate Eric Northman! That Nordic...ignoble wretch!_

"You hear me, Grandpappy? Having friends over. Don't want you hanging around annoying them with your needy, whining sissy footing. Comprende?"

Drawn out of his mental wanderings, Vampire Bill focused on his progeny's words.

"Well, that's rather harsh, Andy!" Bill sputtered defensively. "Ah am not needy. Ah do not whine. And Ah do not sissy foot."

Andy stared silently at his ancestor. Finally, he grunted. "Grandpappy, we're just going to have to agree to disagree on that one."

"Who is coming over, Andy? Is it anyone I know?"

"Well, it ain't Sookie Stackhouse. That's for damn sure!"

Bill knew Sookie wouldn't come over but he wondered if Sam Merlotte might come over. If Sam Merlotte did come over, he decided he would definitely ask Sam about Sookie. Sookie had been working a lot of days lately so Bill hadn't been able to see her as much as he was accustomed to seeing her. Bill figured that Eric, disgusting debased knave that he is, forced Sookie to work days so she would be available in the evenings for his depraved sexual exploits.

_Eric probably makes her remove her panties_, thought Bill._ Maybe he even forces her to stay naked all the time so she's ready for when Eric needs to satisfy his burgeoning loins. _

Bill closed his eyes and shivered at the thought of his lovely and beautiful Sookie being defiled by that large hairless Sasquatch. He felt 'Little Bill Compton' jump at the thought.

Still staring at his grandfather, Andy's features transitioned into a puzzled frown.

_I bet he did order those pay per view porn movies! With all his, 'Ah am a victim of vampire ahdentity theft!' Bullshit!_ thought Andy.

"What's with the faces, Bill?" Andy finally asked. "You got that 'vamp-constipation' look on your face again."

At Andy's words, Bills eyes flew open. "Ah do not look constipated. Ah just have a very animated face."

"Yeah," nodded Andy. "Seems to get real 'animated' every time Sookie Stackhouse's name comes up."

"That's not true! Ah have a long friendship with Sookeh. It's a game we play. Ah find her half-naked dressing and tell her Ah want to lay with her. She sneaks into mah hidey-hole and lays her nude body on mahn." Awkwardly, Bill met his grandson's disbelieving gaze. "Ah am telling you it's a game."

Andy shook his head with an angry snort.

"Good thing I'm already a vamp. Otherwise I'd care more about what having you in the family tree does to us. As it is, I can't be bothered. Everyone around now knows me. Knows Portia. And knows what a sick pervert you are—."

"Ah am not!"

Andy just glared silently at his great great great grandfather.

"Anyway, Hoyt Fortenberry and Jason Stackhouse are stopping by. They're trying to be friends again after Jason did the deed with Jessica."

"Jason Stackhouse and..._Jessica_?" repeated Bill, stunned.

Andy's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Yeah, Grandpappy. You didn't know?"

Silently seething that Jason Stackhouse—with his objectionable morals and questionable intelligence—should take improprieties with _his_—William T. Compton's—child while he, _William T. Compton_, Civil War veteran and very long standing pillar of the community was no closer to winning back Jason's sister was an unfair sleight of fate. An unhappy look settled on Bill's face once more.

Andy, seeing the face, let out a very human-sounding sigh.

"Bill, that Jason was with Jessica has nothing to do with you and Sookie. It's not any of your business," he snarled. "I only mentioned it because I figured you already knew. You are not welcome tonight."

Still frowning, Bill, agitated, crossed his arms as he stared at Andy. Finally he conceded.

"Fine," said Andy. "What are you three doing? And where? So I'll know where not to go?"

"First reasonable thing you've said all night," said Andy, approving. "You know that tree that got hit by lightning?" At Bill's nod, Andy continued. "Well, I told each of them that they could have some wood if they came by to help me cut down the tree."

Something in Andy's words struck a chord in Bill. In a rare moment of discernment, he caught onto to something Andy had left unsaid.

"Wait a minute!" Bill exclaimed, his voice rising. "Andy, do they not know the other is coming?"

"Yeah, that's right. I'm tired of their fighting. It's messin' up all our 'Dick On' time. Obvious their bromance isn't dead. They pine for each other more than they do Jess. 'Aw, whatcha think Jase is doin', Andy?' and 'Andy, you seen Hoyt around tonight?'" He spoke in measured tones, making his voice sound like his young friends. "They're just being stubborn."

"So you're having them over to _mah house_—."

"_Our house_, Grandpappy. Portia's still a lawyer. And vamps still can't own property."

"Fine. You're having them over. You're going to ply them with spirits and then give them chainsaws and have them chop down a tree."

"Yeah," Andy nodded. "Exactly."

"Ah really don't think that's a good idea."

"Well, good thing you're not gonna be there."

***fade to black***

* * *

Later

So Bill agreed to not bother Andy and his friends. What he hadn't agreed to was staying in the house. So, several hours later, when he knew Hoyt and Jason were on the property, he decided to go for a walk around the perimeter of this land. He was not going to approach them. He figured he would stay hidden within the trees and would just listen with his new hearing device. Listen Up. He'd purchased it online from the _As Seen On TV_ website. He didn't understand why his vamp hearing seemed to be worse than octogenarian human hearing but he vowed not to let it get the best of him. When he had visited her the previous week, Dr. Ludwig had had no answers for him either.

"Tell me, Compton. You poked silver in your ears?"

"What?"

"I said: have you poked silver in your ears?"

"Ah really don't feel like talking about mah fears, Dr. Ludwig."

"Harrumph!"

Twisting the dial of his listening device, all of a sudden Bill could hear the conversation occurring yards away.

"You sure this is going to work?" That was Jason Stackhouse's voice.

"Well, it's an experimental psychology. A cross between Janov's Primal Scream Therapy and the WWE."

The second voice, with a strong lilting Scottish accent, sounded familiar to Bill.

_Is that mah friend Greg Ferguson?_ thought Bill.

"Yeah, that's all well and good, Mr. Ferguson,"_ Ah ha! _thought Bill. He listened as Hoyt spoke. "I just feel like I want to kill Jase all the time. Is this gonna make me feel that way less?"

"Well, I say, you two have been friends a long time. Is that right?" Greg asked.

"Yep," said Jason. "Long as I can remember."

"Yeah," replied Hoyt. "We were kids together."

"Well, that's gotta mean something."

"Yeah, reckon it should," said Hoyt. "Or at least it would if that tomcat hadn't stolen my girl!"

"Hoyt, I didn't steal her! You guys were broken up and she fed me her blood. You know I'm a recovering V addict! I can't be trusted around that stuff!"

"I wouldn't know anything about that." A deeper voice, Andy, suddenly intoned.

"Do you mind?" It was Greg. "This is about them. _Not_ you."

"Uh, sorry," grunted Andy.

"You know, Andy," continued Greg, "it's in moment's like that where I see the resemblance."

"Huh? Hey!" sputtered Andy.

"It's true. You invited me here to bring your two friends together and while I'm trying to do that, you selfishly deflect the attention to yourself like you-know-who!"

"Harrumph." Chastised, Andy fell silent. Bill, thunderstruck, clapped a hand over his own mouth to prevent him from making a sound.

"Anyway, back to you boys. What we're hoping to do here is help manifest your anger, Hoyt, in a constructive way. By cutting down this tree. Hoyt, why don't you tell me how angry you are at Jason?"

"I'm real angry at Jason."

"Why? Why, Hoyt? Let it out! Scream if you must! Show us! Let us know! Let—what's this place called? Oh yeah. Let all of Louisiana hear you!"

"I'm angry at 'im 'cause he was my best friend! _Forever_! He knew what Jess meant to me, even if we were broken up! But he just can't keep it in his pants! He can _never_ keep it in his _pants_!" Hoyt's screams died down, replaced only by his wracked breaths.

"Ah," Jason started. "I'm sorry, man—."

"Sorry's not gonna cut it, Jase. Not this time."

"That's it, Hoyt! That's it, my lad! You show him! You show him how angry you are at him!"

Suddenly the roar of a motor took over in the stillness of the night.

"Jason _is_ the tree!" screamed Greg. "_Jason is the tree! Cut down the tree!"_

"Jason!" Hoyt screamed. Only Hoyt's screams and the continuing whir of the chainsaw could be heard in the darkness.

Bill, meanwhile, struggling to hear, had interpreted Greg's scream as "Jason _or_ the tree!"

_Sookeh would never forgive me if Ah allowed her only brother to be killed on mah property_! thought Bill. _Ah must save him!_

In a misguided attempt to "rush" to the scene Bill levitated upward and began his slow, yet purposeful hover towards the group.

Hoyt had been using the chainsaw to cut down the tree. As it was a Disston two-man chainsaw, Jason had been forced to help Hoyt, holding the chainsaw steady. It also forced upon Jason a keen understanding of the level of his friend's anger.

It was upon the scene of the two friends working together furiously to get the tree to come down that Bill finally entered.

Within seconds, Hoyt realized the tree was ready to come down. Backing away from the tree, he let out a wild yell.

Following several loud crunching sounds, the tree came down with a thunderous crash.

"You see?" Greg's Scottish accent could barely be heard under the whir of the still-running chainsaw. "You can still be successful partners—if you just work _through_ your anger!" Lower, he grumbled. "Oprah will have to listen to me after I tell her about this."

Suddenly, Andy's voice rose high above the din.

"No!" exclaimed Andy. "No! Grandpappy! No!"

Greg Ferguson yelled out as well. "Stop! What are you? Mad?"

But it was too late. Bill, anxious to stop what he mistakenly believed was Hoyt Fortenberry massacring Jason Stackhouse in the woods, had, without looking, hovered quickly onto the site.

Jason and Hoyt, still staring at one another, frozen on the spot, held the chainsaw at chest height.

A tall vamp would have merely suffered injury to a limb; a short vamp would have cleared the chainsaw.

But Bill…

Bill Compton was 5'9" on a good day. And most of his days were _not_ good.

Despite Andy's cries of "Bill! Bill!" and Greg's "Angsty vamp! Can't let anyone else have a minute of attention, can you?" the ancient agrarian levitated right into the path of the vibrating chainsaw.

As Jason, Hoyt, Andy, and Greg looked on, Bill's neck was chopped away by the serrated edge of the saw's blade.

Stunned, Jason and Hoyt stared wordlessly as Bill's head fell with a thud to the ground.

After a few moments, Andy broke the awkward silence.

"Aw, shoot! I told him to stay away. He's got to interfere. Just like him to meddle like that."

"I knew that angsty vamp would somehow mess up my chance at having my own talk show! I was supposed to patch things up between Dumb and Dumber here and then Oprah was going to have her people talk to my people."

Hoyt and Jason, coming out of their reverie, exchanged glances. Silent communication done, Jason was the first one to speak.

"Hey!" retorted Jason. "Me and Hoyt ain't dumb!"

Greg snorted. "Whatever gets you through the night."

Suddenly a cell phone buzzed. Jason grabbed his phone.

"Stackhouse. Oh, hey, Sook."

_You think you guys can keep it down? Eric and I are trying to have a make-up date at my place._

Jason made a face. "Ew, Sook. Why you gotta tell me that?" Still piqued, Jason shut his phone. Turning his attention to his friend, he said,

"Hey, Hoyt. Wanna get a drink at Merlottes? My treat."

Hoyt thoughtfully mulled over the invitation before slowly nodding. "Sure, man," he grinned. "Let's go."

After a slightly awkward, one-armed man-hug, Hoyt and Jason started to leave. After a few steps, they paused.

"Hey Andy! You comin'?"

"Yeah, I guess," Andy replied gruffly. "Nothing to do here." He twisted to look at Greg. "You joining us, Ferguson?"

"Yeah," the Scotsman nodded, marveling at Hoyt and Jason's returned camaraderie. "I believe I will join you. My new psychology seems to have worked after all, despite Bill's interference. Go figure. Hey!" he called to Hoyt and Jason. "Drinks are on me!"

"Thanks, man."

"Yeah, thanks, Mr. Ferguson."

"Call me Greg."

Without a second look, the four men left to partake in a drink at Merlottes.

* * *

**AN: Haha...And there it is! Anyway, I originally posted the Hans von Hozel Kill Bill chapters to this story so if some of you are getting an "already reviewed" message, that's why. No worries. I'm far less the review whore than I used to be. My apologies to those of you who are lucky enough to not watch 'True Blood.' Some plot points are items picked over from TB, e.g., Jessica and Jason hooking up, Bill and Portia hooking up, Andy becoming a V addict. Blah blah blah. Yeah, I'm sure it sounds more interesting than it actually was. In fact, I know it does. **


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